Quotes about coffee

Don't stir all the warmth out of your coffee drink it.

I had a 2-week courtship with a fellow student in the fiction workshop in Iowa and a 5-minute wedding in a lawyer's office above the coffee shop where we'd been having lunch that day. And so I sent a cable to my father saying, 'By the time you get this, Daddy, I'll already be Mrs. Blaise!'

Years ago, during a John Grisham phase, I tried to pinpoint exactly why I found Grisham's often predictable legal thrillers quite so comforting. The best answer I could come up with was the frequency with which Grisham tells us that his lead characters are sipping coffee. When it comes to food and drink, predictability can console.

Starbucks has a role and a meaningful relationship with people that is not only about the coffee.

When you have kids and get older, it goes beyond flowers and chocolate. It's about waking up with a baby, letting her sleep in, and making a coffee for her when she wakes up. To me, being romantic is putting someone else first and thinking about what makes them happy.

Now that I have a 16-month-old son, my weekend ritual has changed - but it's better than ever. We get up early and go for a walk on one of the hiking trails near my home in Los Angeles, then meet up with friends at a diner. There's nothing better than sipping coffee, eating scrambled eggs, and taking three hours to do it.

I'm a huge Wonder Woman fan - I have about 12 coffee mugs at home!

I think the biggest misconception about me is people really don't know who I really am. They see the party side of me, they see the crazy side of me. But I also have a laid-back side. You know, I'm chill, down to earth. If you want to grab a cup of coffee and just talk about life, I can do that.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

I had a job when I was 15 working at a supermarket, and I knocked over a stack of plastic coffee cups. In my anger, I threw one at a concrete wall, and it rebounded back into my head and cut my head open. Stupidest way to get a scar, but it's one that I have.

Never say no to coffee

Just fuck me up.A caffeine-addict placing an order with the barista.

He asked her for coffee, but she wanted tea instead.

I wear the universe backwards. I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes. I'm too busy dancing with my imagination to even tip toe with reality for a second. They say I'm going mad. They're right.

If opportunity knocks, let it in. But with the way things are nowadays-I'd rather meet opportunity somewhere that's more public. I could meet opportunity in a coffee shop, but what if it works there? Well, I could suggest my grandma's basement.-James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

I hate when I'm not done with my cup but my mom decides to put it in the dishwasher anyway and the cup isn't dishwasher safe. I keep telling my mom that my origami coffee mugs are hand wash ONLY. Handshakes are also hand wash only.-Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz

I've often wondered - where do the people who WORK at coffee shops go to meet their friends - Do they go to Conference Rooms? And if they don't meet in conference rooms, I'd like them to know I'd be willing to rent out my grandma's basement.-James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

You wake up and feel a sudden sadness that you never felt before. You try to find a reason behind it but you cannot. You think coffee might change the feeling. So you make yourself a hot cup of coffee and put on the music player. Do you feel better now?

alone, drinking coffee, listening to the playlist that include the songs that remember you with the best and bad moments of your life.what a hard emotional moment !!

His smile was like a Dylan album and a cup of coffee on a sunny afternoon

Our daily habits – honorable and dishonorable, noble and ignoble, vital and vile – are revelatory. Our sense of self is fashioned partially by what we employ to crank us up in order to charge through every day, or stated otherwise, what vices we partake of and what substances we are addicted to using.

Take a shower. Wash away every trace of yesterday. Of smells. Of weary skin. Get dressed. Make coffee, windows open, the sun shining through. Hold the cup with two hands and notice that you feel the feeling of warmth. 
 You still feel warmth.
Now sit down and get to work. Keep your mind sharp, head on, eyes on the page and if small thoughts of worries fight their ways into your consciousness: threw them off like fires in the night and keep your eyes on the track. Nothing but the task in front of

I am clumsy, drop glasses and get drunk on Monday afternoons. I read Seneca and can recite Shakespeare by heart, but I mess up the laundry, don’t answer my phone and blame the world when something goes wrong. I think I have a dream, but most of the days I’m still sleeping. The grass is cut. It smells like strawberries. Today I finished four books and cleaned my drawers. Do you believe in a God? Can I tell you about Icarus? How he flew too close to the sun?I want to make coming home your favourit

Let me wake up next to you, have coffee in the morning and wander through the city with your hand in mine, and I'll be happy for the rest of my fucked up little life.

As long as there was coffee in the world, how bad could things be?

Coffee is a way of stealing time that should by rights belong to your older self.

Life’s too short to drink crappy coffee and cry over boys who don’t care.

The joke was that President Bush only declared war when Starbucks was hit. You can mess with the U.N. all you want, but when you start interfering with the right to get caffeinated, someone has to pay.

A morning coffee is my favorite way of starting the day, settling the nerves so that they don't later fray.

Do you know how helpless you feel if you have a full cup of coffee in your hand and you start to sneeze?

I don't really like coffee, she said, but I don't really like it when my head hits my desk when I fall asleep either.

Want coffee?" I asked, as I headed that way."It's three thirty in the morning.""Okay. Want coffee?

How many of us have lately taken the time out to look at the sky; marvel at the clouds; smell the flowers; or smelt the fresh scent of rain; bought a stranger a cup of tea or coffee; given our time to help another; or just taken time out to sit and watch people rush hither and tither; said "I love you"; smiled at a complete stranger; joined in with kids from the street to play a game?Sadly, I would have to say....not many.It's sad....

I have never been drawn to luxury. I love the simple things; coffee shops, books, and people who try to understand.

Yesterday it was sun outside. The sky was blue and people were lying under blooming cherry trees in the park. It was Friday, so records were released, that people have been working on for years. Friends around me find success and level up, do fancy photo shoots and get featured on big, white, movie screens. There were parties and lovers, hand in hand, laughing perfectly loud,but I walked numbly through the park, round and round, 40 times for 4 hoursjust wanting to make it through the day.There's

Coffee and books are a simple recipe for happiness.

You smoked another cigarette and we shared another coffee and it was just another morning that made me realise that this is all it takes to be happy.

I'm not everyone's cup of tea, because I'm a kick butt cappuccino with extra milk fluff and chocolate sprinkles!

Isn't the smell of coffee the best alarm clock?

It was a very ordinary day, the day I realised that my becoming is my life and my home and that I don't have to do anything but trust the process, trust my story and enjoy the journey. It doesn't really matter who I've become by the finish line, the important things are the changes from this morning to when I fall asleep again, and how they happened, and who they happened with. An hour watching the stars, a coffee in the morning with someone beautiful, intelligent conversations at 5am while shar

Words mean nothing. They are like the husks of the coffee Bean. They cover what is essential, which is the bean itself, and when the husks are discarded, they lie on the road and rot and disappear. Actions are what lie inside, like the bean.

I like my coffee with cream and my literature with optimism.

The best thing about being a writer is that 'work' is always something you love, plus usually accompanied by tea, coffee and cakes of some sort.

I stood in your doorway this morningdreaming you’d turn aroundyou’d tilt your headyou’d softly whisper ”stay”or that you’d grab my armsto shake me while askingwhat the hell are we doingwe loveeach otherand this is not rightso we will make this worknow stay!You poured your coffee. Stirred the spoon like a crystal manwith your back to me and not a sound. the fridge humming elegies while the clock ticked onand the streets are so clean here people rushing to workand maybe I should be tooby nowat thi

Fueled by my inspiration, I ran across the room to steal the cup of coffee the bookshelf had taken prisoner. Lapping the black watery brew like a hyena, I tossed the empty cup aside. I then returned to the chair to continue my divine act of creation. Hot blood swished in my head as my mighty pen stole across the page.

Oscar Wilde may have quipped that one can “never be overdressed or overeducated,” but Wilde did not live in our era of overeducated baristas.

You taste like the last drop of whiskeyat 3 amafter a lousy daylike the first gulp of coffee on a Monday sipped behind a deskhot and bitterlike the burning at the back of the throatafter the first cigaretteYou taste, boy oh boy, like my next mistake.

Our mornings were never "rise and shine." They were "rise and fight." They were loud and ravaging. They were heavy and unnerving, like the after-math of a war, with unresolved territorial disputes. They were never serene, but they were beautiful. More beautiful than the smile you wear when you step out of the shower, more tempting than the sight of you brewing coffee from across the kitchen bar, more promising than a glorious victory, bigger than all our tumultuous past. Bigger than you. Bigger

Love doesn't go away overnight. It sometimes stays for coffee.

That’s what I do: I make coffee and occasionally succumb to suicidal nihilism. But you shouldn’t worry — poetry is still first. Cigarettes and alcohol follow

6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,and I still don’t know which month it was thenor what day it is now.Blurred out linesfrom hangovers to coffeeAnother vagabond lost to love.4am alone and on my way.These are my finest moments.I scrub my skinto rid me from youand I still don’t know why I cried.It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look b

Oh yes! I have couple-goals too. I love to couple myself with- Books, Coffee and Mountains.

She was made mostly of coffee and empty spaces.

C is for coffee. Coffee would always be there for her.

The coffee is not strong enough to keep me awake.

Just the other day, I was in my neighborhood Starbucks, waiting for the post office to open. I was enjoying a chocolatey cafe mocha when it occurred to me that to drink a mocha is to gulp down the entire history of the New World. From the Spanish exportation of Aztec cacao, and the Dutch invention of the chemical process for making cocoa, on down to the capitalist empire of Hershey, PA, and the lifestyle marketing of Seattle's Starbucks, the modern mocha is a bittersweet concoction of imperialis

Her gaze wavered towards one of the books on the sales counter beside the register, a hardcover copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet with many of the pages dog-eared and stained with coffee and tea. The store owner caught her looking at it and slid it across the counter towards her. “You ever read Hamlet?” he questioned.“I tried to when I was in high school,” said Mandy, picking up the book and flipping it over to read the back. “I mean, it’s expected that everyone should like Shakespeare’s books and pl

The powers of a man's mind are directly proportioned to the quantity of coffee he drinks.

When you cannot feel,The purity of love, The tenderness of beauty, The drinkability of wine, The simplicity of a smile, You have to go back and drink coffee

What do you want?""Just coffee. Black - like my soul.

The challenge lies in knowing how to bring this sort of day to a close. His mind has been wound to a pitch of concentration by the interactions of the office. Now there are only silence and the flashing of the unset clock on the microwave. He feels as if he had been playing a computer game which remorselessly tested his reflexes, only to have its plug suddenly pulled from the wall. He is impatient and restless, but simultaneously exhausted and fragile. He is in no state to engage with anything s

Our surroundings fade and we exist in unison, two people who once shared cups of coffee, unprecedentedly ourselves in a changing world.

Tony and Peg have two kids, Terry-Lynn and Harvey, both of whom are enrolled in so many extracurricular and afterschool clubs that they hardly ever see their parents. If Terry-Lynn is in Girl Guides, she doesn’t have to see Peg inviting the Purolator man in for “a cup of coffee”. If Harvey is in the anime drawing club, he doesn’t have to see Peg kissing Mr. Cooper from across the street, even if all the other neighbours secretly know what’s going on. Tony has no idea, all he knows is that Peg is

Life isn't sugarcoated. Why should coffee be?

But there are people who take salt with their coffee. They say it gives a tang, a savour, which is peculiar and fascinating. In the same way there are certain places, surrounded by a halo of romance, to which the inevitable disillusionment you experience on seeing them gives a singular spice. You had expected something wholly beautiful and you get an impression which is infinitely more complicated than any that beauty can give you. It is the weakness in the character of a great man which may mak

I never said I liked coffee better than sex. I said I'd had it more.

A big group of daily friends or a white painted house with bills and mirrors, are not a necessity to me—but an intelligent conversation while sharing another coffee, is.

Coffee is a girl who never tells a boy no.

The rich scent of my favorite caffeinated beverage sends trickles of pleasure across my skin as I step inside. Is there anything better than coffee? Chocolate maybe and sex ranks very close I suppose.

I think much of a #writerslife is figuring out how much coffee is needed to fuel madness & creativity while avoiding having to pee.

There are two gradations of cold that are always acceptable: Mild Frost, which is preferable for reading and writing and any other activity done indoors, and Absolute Zero, which is the only temperature suitable for sleep. There is nothing more delicious than being swathed in a cocoon of blankets and awaking with a nose frosted over with rime, and once I do achieve vampiric heights and fall asleep with the mastery of a corpse lately dead, I am best left alone until I wake up at my usual time. I

If coffee were like dreams, then I would be wired in constant bliss, never needing sleep to live out my dreams.

Please don't talk to me like I'm crazy. I've been accused of personality disorders enough this week, thanks. You know I've slept with girls before and didn't get attached.

Pause while reading a book only in case of two things:1. To kiss2. To sip coffeeToo bad both are a luxury.

7amThey said that I’d forget you,and I knew it wasn’t true.But sometimes I wake up now,and my heart’s no longer blue.I press the Keurig button,dancing across the room—Sometimes it’s nearly seven,before I’ve thought of you.And though we sleep together,all night side by side,one day I’ll have my coffeewithout you in my mind.

Two dreams and a cup of coffee later.

Your exuberance, passion, mesmerizing voice, animated actions, and eyes full of dreamscaptured my attentionso completely, that I didn't feel the bitter taste of coffee

The pull of lingering dreams, the strong, bitter tasteof morning coffee, the ticking clock, and horn of awaiting busform a powerful combination to kick-start the day

I snatched up the cardboard cup, plastered my lips to the plastic sippy-lid and sucked down a scalding hot mouthful. It burned, but I didn’t give a damn. I held the cup to my chest as if it were my most special friend while feeling the instant affect the coffee had on my mood and I smiled. “Hello lover.

I love that there's such a rivalry. It's like, leaf water versus bean water, ya know? - Charlie

I don't know where my ideas come from. I will admit, however, that one key ingredient is caffeine. I get a couple cups of coffee into me and weird things just start to happen.

I brought you some coffee.” he held out the cup but she waved it away.“I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet.”At that he smiled. “How would you know what feet taste like?”“I just know.”-Luke and Clary, pg.209-

I cleaned the shit off my pink high-tops and drove home, stopping for an espresso at the coffeehouse across from the college. Men and women were hunched over copies of Jean Paul Sartre and writing in their journals. Most wore the thin-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses favored by intellectuals. Their clothes were faded to a precisely fashionable degree; you can buy them that way from catalogs now, new clothes processed to look old. The intellectuals looked at me in my overalls the way such people inev

I get into beatific cornucopia when I delve into books, coffee, and wanderings!

I was driven to go into book writing by the very nature of journalism and blogging. Both are ephemeral. Journalists and bloggers can have humongous egos. But in the end, what they write is really a passing show. I wanted something more lasting — a record of sorts, something people can look back to and relish again like hot, home–brewed coffee.

If a boy can manage to have coffee with me during the apocalypse, I know he cares. There’s not a speck of doubt in my mind. He must care.

Prayer is like coffee for my soul in the morning

The kiss is different than I expected. It’s slow and tender, his lips soft and warm against mine. He tastes sweet, like the powdered sugar I spilt and the coffee with chicory he’s always drinking. It’s a perfect first kiss.

For more than three decades, coffee has captured my imagination because it is a beverage about individuals as well as community. A Rwandan farmer. Eighty roast masters at six Starbucks plants on two continents. Thousands of baristas in 54 countries. Like a symphony, coffee's power rests in the hands of a few individuals who orchestrate its appeal. So much can go wrong during the journey from soil to cup that when everything goes right, it is nothing short of brilliant! After all, coffee doesn't

Pretty quickly, I stopped seeing the company as an engine of community. Instead, I saw it as a mythmaker offering only an illusion of belonging and meeting its customers' desire for connections in form, maybe, but surely not in substance. Once I came to this conclusion, I started to dig deeper into the company's other promises--great working conditions, musical discovery, fair treatment of farmer, and concern for the environment. Every time I went excavating, the stories turned out to be more co

Drinking caffeinated drinks including high potency energy drinks, and consuming other enablers, we do not need to develop an internal source for the energy, effort, endurance, and enthusiasm needed to confront each day.

I'll share my life with you. But, not my doughnuts.

I like to go to Starbucks and watch the intellectuals. I observe them and their intellectualness. They in turn observe me drinking coffee and being a creeper.

I’d like to THANK whoever saw a bunch of cherries and thought....HEY!! If I dry out a bunch of those berry seeds, call them “BEANS”, smash them and add hot water, it will be AWESOME!

I’d like to THANK the genius who saw a bunch of cherries and thought....HEY!! If I dry out a bunch of those berry seeds, call them “BEANS”, smash them and add hot water, it will be AWESOME!!!!

You need some coffee, don't you?""Yes, I've only had a gallon.

We're growing up and I don't like it," said Tacy, as they say at Heinz's later, drinking coffee.

I ordered a single espresso because I wanted a drink I could hook up with.

Your fancy alien train is broken?""My fancy alien material transfer system has been sitting unused for over a billion years and half the planet just exploded. Your ship was built less than a decade ago and you can barely keep the coffee pot running.”“You are a sad, bitter little man.