I'm Salty Quotes & Sayings

Dad and I leave town in the early dark. It's the second Sunday of the holidays, and we pack up the old blue car with enough clothes for summer and hit the road. It's so early he's wiping hills of sand piled in the corners of his eyes. I wipe a few tears from mine. Tears don't pile, though. They grip and cling and slide in salty trails that I taste until the edge of the city. — Cath Crowley

My tears were hot and salty, and I imagine them melting my heart. — Lauren Myracle

I like to eat. I'm always on the edge of how much can I eat without looking too - you know. If I eat something salty, it makes me want something sweet. I eat something sweet, then I want salty. And exercise is not my thing, though I do it. — Salma Hayek

Write down the date, because I'm getting that tattoo five years from now, okay?"
The tears that had been only a gloss over Ryan's eyes now spilled down his temples. "You're doing this on purpose." Ryan laughed and gently punched his arm.
"Just a little bit." Liam rolled Ryan to his back and lapped off the salty wetness. His chest was swelling with joy — K.A. Merikan

Pain. It's there for a reason. Whether your'e shredding your legs on a raspberry bush, scalding your hand in hot water, or taking an arrow to the chest in the forest, I got bad news for you, brother: That's gonna hurt. Yes, when our bodies take blows, those powerful jolts make us cry salty tears, run for the hills, or crashland in hospital beds with limbs hanging everywhere. — Neil Pasricha

I miss you so much my heart bleeds salty tears. — Stanley Christopher

We take such pains to be polite. We never say what we mean. For all it matters, we could greet each other and speak only of cheese - "How was your Limburger, miss?" "Salty as a ripe Stinking Bishop, thank you." "Ah, very cheddar, miss. I'll have your Stilton brought to your Camembert, then." - and no one would likely notice. — Libba Bray

A good espresso to me is a little bit salty; you just become used to a good taste. Anytime I go into a new place and they don't clean their machine properly or the water temperature isn't right, it tastes awful. — Andrew Bird

I want to present a very strong and bold image, but with femininity. I love being sweet and salty all together. — Keke Palmer

The more I think of it, the more our ideas, our idols and our so-called holy practices, and those of our visions which supposedly are ineffable, all seem to me to be engendered merely by the stirrings of the human machine, exactly as is the wind from our nostrils or from our netherparts, and as is our sweat and salty water from tears, or the white blood passed in love, or the muddy excrement of the body. It enraged me to think that man should so waste his own substance in construction of theories that were almost always pernicious, and should speak of chastity before having examined the whole machinery of sex; that he should debate the question of free will instead of pondering the thousand obscure reasons which, for example, cause you to blink if I suddenly point a stick at your eyes; or that he should talk of Hell before having looked more closely into the question of death. — Marguerite Yourcenar

I'm a sucker for French fries - I love that they're salty! — Megan Hilty

Sadly for you, I think I'm going to live, Simi. You can stop slapping me now. I've already lost enough sense. Can't afford to lose any more brain cells. I really really need my last three before I forget how to spell my name. It's hard enough to pronounce." Nick
"well, poo. Not poo that you'll live, 'cause the Simi would probably miss you if you died, but poo that I'll miss all that good old salty boy meat. Though we needs be fatting you up some to make you really good eats. Hmmm." Simi — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I don't have a sweet tooth, normally; I'm a salty-savory girl. But when I'm pregnant, almost as a ritual, at 4 o'clock, I'll have cookies-and-cream ice cream! — Ivanka Trump

If I get frustrated, the first thing I'll do is get up from the piano - completely mindlessly - and walk over to the cupboard and pull out something salty to eat. — Sara Bareilles

Every cuisine has its characteristic 'flavor principle,' Rozin contends, whether it is tomato-lemon-oregano in Greece; lime-chili in Mexico; onion-lard-paprika in Hungary, or, in Samin's Moroccan dish, cumin-coriander-cinnamon-ginger-onion-fruit. (And in America? Well, we do have Heinz ketchup, a flavor principle in a bottle that kids, or their parents, use to domesticate every imaginable kind of food. We also now have the familiar salty-umami taste of fast food, which I would guess is based on salt, soy oil, and MSG. — Michael Pollan

I still have highs and lows, maybe I don't cry salty tears as much. — Sarah Silverman

It may also be that, quite apart from any specific references one food makes to another, it is the very allusiveness of cooked food that appeals to us, as indeed that same quality does in poetry or music or art. We gravitate towards complexity and metaphor, it seems, and putting fire to meat or fermenting fruit and grain, gives us both: more sheer sensory information and, specifically, sensory information that, like metaphor, points away from the here and now. This sensory metaphor - this stands for that - is one of the most important transformations of nature wrought by cooking. And so a piece of crisped pig skin becomes a densely allusive poem of flavors: coffee and chocolate, smoke and Scotch and overripe fruit and, too, the sweet-salty-woodsy taste of maple syrup on bacon I loved as a child. As with so many other things, we humans seem to like our food overdetermined. — Michael Pollan

I like salty, creamy foods. I could sit down with a bag of chips and French onion dip and go to town! That would be on my last-supper list. — Christina Hendricks

This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.
So let a love beat over me again,
Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds. — Dorothy Parker

Salty tears stream down my face - coating my lips as I mutter senseless apologies for so many things. So many irreversible things.
Morpheus peels the vines off and lifts me, cradling me to his chest. — A.G. Howard

Poseidon held out his arms and gave me a hug. I realized, a little embarrassed, that I'd never actually hugged my dad before. He was warm - like a regular human - and he smelled of a salty beach and fresh sea air. — Rick Riordan

I'm a salty, greasy girl. I give every french fry a fair chance. Could you just lay some lard in my belly? — Cameron Diaz

Ah, Caviar! I keep on eating it, but can never get my fill. Like olives. It's a lucky thing it's not salty. — Anton Chekhov

But I can say just as surely that this minute, in a northern-California valley, I can taste-smell-hear-see and feel between my teeth the potato chips I ate slowly one November afternoon in 1936, in the bar of the Lausanne Palace. They were uneven in both thickness and color, probably made by a new apprentice in the hotel kitchen, and almost surely they smelled faintly of either chicken or fish, for that was always the case there. They were a little too salty, to encourage me to drink. They were ineffable. I am still nourished by them. That is probably why I can be so firm about not eating my way through barrels, tunnels, mountains more of them here in the land where they hang like square cellophane fruit on wire trees in all grocery stores, to tempt me sharply every time I pass them. — Mary Francis Kennedy Fisher

Some of us don't appreciate such salty language." My smile sharpened. "Sorry, ma'am," I drawled. "But I can assure you that cursing is going to be the least of my sins today. — Jennifer Estep

The best literary device I got from my people was their talk, rough, earthy, salty speech that starts dancing on me sometimes, crying on me other times whether I like it or not. — Mairtin O Cadhain

Fourteen is the age when time first starts to make its presence felt. Time took on such a variety of hues in those days that even my frozen mind sometimes reflected the colours of the world around me, and I could feel my thoughts fluttering in the humid, salty breeze. At such moments, when the brilliant blue skies, the flaming carpets beneath the Gulmohur trees in the school grounds and the nut-brown twinkle in Sonia's eyes splashed into the moments of my life, I felt alive. Only time had no colour in the library. In the library, time simply ceased to be. — Indu Muralidharan

I adore a little summer shower, said I, with a deep, appreciative intake of the damp, salty air. It makes the world smell fresh and new. — Syrie James

In a desperate bid to reestablish civilized talk and decorum, Miss Hisselpenny said, quite loudly, I see they are bringing in the fish course. What a pleasant surprise. I do so love fish. Don't you Mr., uh, Dubh. It is so very, um, salty. — Gail Carriger

I have to close my eyes as the flavors burst in my mouth - gentle heat from the pepper, salty tang of the pork, sweetness of pomegranate, the velvety-rich walnut sauce. He's waiting, but I don't know what to say. 'I love you; can I have your babies' might scare him, but it's my most sincere thought. — Jessica Martinez

While the rest of the class is hanging on every syllable that comes out of Mr. Landau's mouth, I'm looking at the false tongue poster and I'm kind of wishing it wasn't wrong. There's something nice about those thick black arrows: sour here, salty there, like there's a right place for everything. Instead of the total confusion the human tongue actually turns out to be. — Rebecca Stead

If everyone could just live near the ocean, I think we'd all be happier. It's hard to be down about anything knee deep in the sand. — Crystal Woods

I'm partial to telling all the sharks they're not as cool as they think they are, and that it's people like them who bankrupt the tooth fairy and don't leave any tooth money for the rest of us. Or we can make out some more. I'm planning on moaning, 'oh, Salty! You bad sea demon!' next time. Just so you're prepared."
Kat grins. "Who says we can't do both?"
"I knew I loved you." I lean in and kiss her. And then a shark swims by and I shake my fist at it and ask it where all my quarters are. — Chelsea M. Campbell

You was talkin' out of yer head last night, too," chortles Davy. "No one's gonna fancy me. I'm gonna be ugly and no on'es gonna fancyme!" he mimics, mincing about the hammock. "You are such a rum cove, Jacky, for thinkin' such things when yer just about beat t' death! Fancy me? Fancy me? Jacky, no one's gonna fancy us, we're all gonna end up lookin' like Snag!"
"Which is how a salty dog sailor's supposed to look," says Willy with a firm nod.
"And you're halfway there, Jack-o!" crows Tink.
Ah, the sweet comfort of friends. — L.A. Meyer

I'm definitely a serial entrepreneur and a serial snacker. And when it comes to snacks, I'm more of a salty snacker, though I've been known to have a craving for sweets from time to time. — Keith Belling

When I lived in New York and went to Chinatown, I learned that these flavors and their meanings were actually a foundation of ancient Chinese medicine.
Salty translated to fear and the frantic energy that tries to compensate for or hide it.
Sweet was the first flavor we recognized from our mother's milk, and to which we turned when we were worried and unsure or depressed.
Sour usually meant anger and frustration.
Bitter signified matters of the heart, from simply feeling unloved to the almost overwhelming loss of a great love. Most spices, along with coffee and chocolate, had some bitterness in their flavor profile. Even sugar, when it cooked too long, turned bitter. But to me, spice was for grief, because it lingered longest. — Judith Fertig

We need to borrow your boat," said Vimes.
"Bugger off!"
"I'm choosing to believe that was a salty nautical expression meaning 'Why, certainly,'" said Vimes. — Terry Pratchett

I will tell you sincerely and without exaggeration that the best part of lunch today at the NASA Ames cafeteria is the urine. It is clear and sweet, though not in the way mountain streams are said to be clear and sweet. More in the way of Karo syrup. The urine has been desalinated by osmotic pressure. Basically it swapped molecules with a concentrated sugar solution. Urine is a salty substance (though less so than the NASA Ames chili), and if you were to drink it in an effort to rehydrate yourself, it would have the opposite effect. But once the salt is taken care of and the distasteful organic molecules have been trapped in an activated charcoal filter, urine is a restorative and surprisingly drinkable lunchtime beverage. I was about to use the word unobjectionable, but that's not accurate. People object. They object a lot. — Mary Roach

Look what I found, Eight!"
Eight disappears from the grass and reappears up in the air next to the Chest. He wraps his arms around it and hugs it. Slime and all. Then he teleports back to the edge of the lake, the Chest still in his hands. "I can't believe it," Eight finally says. "All this time, it was right here." He looks stunned.
"It was inside a Mog ship at the bottom of the lake," I say, walking out of the water.
Eight disappears again and teleports directly in front of me, our noses practically touching. Before I can register how nice his warm breath feels on my face, he picks me up and kisses me hard on the mouth as he twirls me around. My body stiffens and I suddenly have no idea what to do with my hands. I don't know what to do at all, so I just let it happen. He tastes salty and sweet at the same time. The whole world disappears and I feel as if I'm floating in darkness. (Rise of the Nine) — Pittacus Lore

Nick will come home, sweaty and salty and beer-loose from a day at the ballpark, and I'll curl up in his lap, ask him about the game, ask him if his friend Jack had a good time, and he'll say, "Oh, he came down with a case of the dancing monkeys - poor Jennifer was having a 'real stressful week' and really needed him at home. — Gillian Flynn

I always have to have sweet and salty. I know some of you are going to say, "Oh, I tried dates. I hate them." That's probably because you had the ones that were on the shelf for three years. Go to some healthy place and get the fresh ones, and you will just love them. You'll start eating them and think they're so good. — Sandra Cisneros

Tadas was sent to the principal today," announced Jonas at dinner. He wedged a huge piece of sausage into his small mouth.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because he talked about hell," sputtered Jonas, juice from the plump sausage dribbling down his chin.
"Jonas, don't speak with your mouth full. Take smaller pieces," scolded Mother.
"Sorry," said Jonas with his moth stuffed. "It's good." He finished chewing. I took a bite of sausage. It was warm and the skin was deliciously salty.
"Tadas told one of the girls that hell is the worst place ever and there's no escape for all eternity."
"Now why would Tadas be talking of hell?" asked Papa, reaching for the vegetables.
"Because his father told him that if Stalin comes to Lithuania, we'll all end up there. — Ruta Sepetys

I can't go without Vegemite, a salty spread from Australia. I put it on toast, and it brings me back to being a kid. I make sure to put it in my bag because I'm always on the road. — Phoebe Tonkin

I love all kinds of bread. Whenever I crave junk food, I want salty things like peanuts or potato chips. — Tyra Banks

But I cannot be worrying-worrying all the time about the truth. I have to worry about the truth that can be lived with. And that is the difference between losing your marbles drinking the salty sea, or swallowing the stuff from the streams. My Niece-of-Shame believes in the talking cure, eh?" says Alsana, with something of a grin. "Talk, talk, talk and it will be better. Be honest, slice open your heart and spread the red stuff around. But the past is made of more than words, dearie. We married old men, you see? These bumps"
Alsana pats them both
"they will always have daddy-long-legs for fathers. One leg in the present, one in the past. No talking will change this. Their roots will always be tangled. And roots get dug up. Just look in my garden - birds at the coriander every bloody day ... — Zadie Smith

Sadie," Thad said, his gaze boring into her. He kept his voice low, almost a growl. "Don't ever scare me like that again. If anything had happened to you, I - " With a groan, he pulled her close again. Her cheek pressed to his chest, the points of the tin badge pricking her flesh. His heartbeat pounded fast and sure beneath her ear. She remained snug in his embrace for long seconds, absorbing the wonder of the moment. Her lips still tingled pleasantly from the pressure of his. She tasted the essence of coffee and salty ham. And she'd eaten oatmeal for breakfast. — Kim Vogel Sawyer

It was warm and salty, chalky and bittersweet. It tasted like the blood of some old, old thing. I tried not to think about how much at the mercy of these strange people I now was. But in fact my courage was failing. Both Dona Catalina and the guide's mocking eyes had slowly gone cold and mantislike. A wave of insect sound sweeping up the river seemed to splatter the darkness with shards of sharpedged light. I felt my lips go numb. Trying not to appear as loaded as I felt, I crossed to my hammock and lay back. Behind my closed eyelids there was a flowing river of magenta light. It occurred to me in a kind of dream mental pirouette that a helicopter must be landing on top of the hut, and this was the last impression I had. When I regained consciousness I appeared to myself to be surfing on the inner curl of a wave of brightly lit transparent information several hundred feet high. Exhilaration gave way to terror as I realised that my wave was speeding toward a rocky coastline. — Terence McKenna

Oh world, hear this, the streams of love ends in the salty ocean! My Lord, I wish to rise from this salt! — Preeth Nambiar

The ones I loved fly as birds in the open sky above me. Soaring, weaving, calling to me to join them. I want so badly to follow them, but the seawater saturates my wings, making it impossible to lift them. The ones I hated have taken to the water, horrible scaled things that tear my salty flesh with needle teeth. Biting again and again. Dragging me beneath the surface. — Suzanne Collins

Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time. — Margaret Atwood

Once we were blobs in the sea, and then fishes, and then lizards and rats and then monkeys, and hundreds of things in between. This hand was once a fin, this hand once had claws! In my human mouth I have the pointy teeth of a wolf and the chisel teeth of a rabbit and the grinding teeth of a cow! Our blood is as salty as the sea we used to live in! When we're frightened, the hair on our skin stands up, just like it did when we had fur. We are history! Everything we've ever been on the way to becoming us, we still are. [ ... ]
I'm made up of the memories of my parents and my grandparents, all my ancestors. They're in the way I look, in the colour of my hair. And I'm made up of everyone I've ever met who's changed the way I think. — Terry Pratchett

I'm waiting for the stars to pop through the black above, waiting for the future to wash over me like so many salty waves - some as turbulent as my thoughts and some as velvety as a good kiss. — Matthew Quick

And then I get up because it is the only thing I can do. I step out of the ditch and brush the ants off because it is the only thing I can do. I follow Randall around the house because it is the only thing I can do; if this is strength, if this is weakness, this is what I do. I hiccup, but tears still run down my face. After Mama died, Daddy said, What are you crying for? Stop crying. Crying ain't going to change anything. We never stopped crying. We just did it quieter. We hid it. I learned how to cry so that almost no tears leaked out of my eyes, so that I swallowed the hot salty water of them and felt them running down my throat. This was the only thing that we could do. I swallow and squint through the tears, and I run. — Jesmyn Ward

And I'm not too great at that sort of comforting thing, especially when my hands are cold and the bed is warm. I carried him softly through the broken street, with one salty eye and a heavy, deathly heart. With him I tried a little harder. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next door neighbour. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry. — Markus Zusak

Turn to my left and see a young couple walking along the sidewalk. Seattle's Alki Beach is pretty much deserted, aside from a few die-hards, or early morning insomniacs, like me. The young couple are walking away from me, hand in hand, smiling at each other, and I point my lens at them and click. I zoom in on their sneaker-clad feet and locked hands and shoot some more, my photographer's eye appreciating their intimate moment on the beach. I inhale the salty air and stare out at the sound once again as a red-sailed boat gently glides out on the water. The early morning sunshine is — Kristen Proby

Laura looked up at him with dead blue eyes.
I want to be alive again," she said. "Not in this half-life. I want to be really alive. I want to feel my heart pumping in my chest again. I want to feel blood moving through me - hot, and salty, and real. It's weird, you don't think you can feel it, the blood, but believe me, when it stops flowing, you'll know."
She rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with red from the mess on her hands.
Look, it's hard. You know why dead people only go out at night, puppy? Because it's easier to pass for real, in the dark. And I don't want to have to pass. I want to be alive. — Neil Gaiman

Worrying about clothes, though, is easy to understand. When it comes to clothes, people are very competitive, especially if they're movie stars. I think every smart woman devises a look for herself. Margaret Sullivan had a look: romantic, young, pretty, smart. Katharine Hepburn made a look for herself as this wonderful old salty character. Marilyn Monroe had a look; it was like, "Fuck me with sadness"... — Carol Matthau

Sooo, I'm tired of people thinking I'm a freak. I know you can't relate to that but -"
"Get over it already, will ya?" Candace stood. "You're not Smellody anymore. You're pretty. You can get hot guys now. Tanned ones with good vision. Not geeky hose jousters." She shut the window. "Don't you ever want to use your lips as something other than veneer protectors?"
Melody felt a familiar pinch behind her eyes. Her throat dried. Her eyes burned. And then they came. Like salty little paratroopers, tears descended en masse. She hated Candace thought she had never made out with a boy. But how could she convince a seventeen-year-old with more dates than a fruitcake that Randy the Starbucks cashier (aka Scarbucks, because of his acne scars) was a great kisser? She couldn't. — Lisi Harrison

Thus, one of the awful things I can admit about myself is that the two years I spent with Jennifer live in my mind mostly as a series of frantic, breathy memories. Clawing hands tugging off clothes, heartbeat thumping in my ears, fingernails digging down my back. salty tastes lingering in my mouth. It's biology. It's hormones. As time passes I can recall fewer and fewer of our conversations and I couldn't give you the details of our five most-fun dates (though I have a fairly graphic vision of how each of them ended).

If upon hearing this you pump your fist and wink knowingly, you can kiss my ass. She was a good friend to me. She put up with my bullshit and at times not even I can put up with my bullshit. But all that is gone and what is left is a big, black hole where the sex used to be. — David Wong

Newel and Doren had inexhaustibly consumed milkshakes, burgers, sandwiches, tacos, nachos, pretzels, nuts, beef jerky, trail mix, soda, doughnuts, candy bars, cookies, crackers, and aerosol cheese. Of the fifty most impressive belches Seth had witnessed in his life, all had occurred on this road trip. "I hate to interrupt the feasting," Vanessa said, "but we did come here for a purpose. Let's try to focus on something besides sweet fat and salty fat for the next little while." "Some of us have fast metabolisms," Doren mumbled. "We just want fuel in the tank before we risk our necks," Newel complained. — Brandon Mull

William whispered, "You're about to find out how your liver tastes, my friend."
"I have tasted it already," Zacharel said, his voice its usual monotone. The snowflakes began to fall in earnest, tiny at first, but growing in diameter. An arctic wind blustered around. "It was a bit salty." How the hell was a guy supposed to respond to that? — Gena Showalter

Farewell to Kentucky and our agreeable vices. We go to bed early, but because of whiskey seldom with a clear head. We are fond of string beans and thin slices of salty ham. When I left home my brother said: It will be wonderful if you make a success of life, then you can follow the races. Farewell — Elizabeth Hardwick

And I feel like the Queen of Water. I feel like water that transforms from a flowing river to a tranquil lake to a powerful waterfall to a freshwater spring to a meandering creek to a salty sea to raindrops gentle on your face to hard, stinging hail to frost on a mountaintop, and back to a river again. — Maria Virginia Farinango

And this is how I come face to face with my selfishness, because I don't know if I can enjoy this goldfish without knowing that he loves me, or if not loves me, then at least depends on me, i.e., swims up to my fingers greedily when I fill them with salty-smelling rainbow-colored flakes, and wiggle them over his head.

And this is disturbing to realize, that I have such difficulty enjoying anything that doesn't know I exist. Especially when I stop and think how big the world is, the world that is not even Japan or India, the world that is the room next door. — Amy Fusselman

Descartes said that animals were automata. I have always been certain that it was the threat of torture that stopped him saying the same held true for human beings. Neither I nor Matthew had time for souls. That we were intricate chemical machines never diminished our sense of wonder, our reverence for Vermeer and for Monet, our floating bodies in the salty water, our evanescent joy before the dying of the light. — Peter Carey

The humans were sitting cross-legged on the floor in a circle of soldiers, pointing at things and learning more Chimaera words: salt, rat, eat, which unfortunate combination led to Zuzana rejecting the meat on her plate.
"I think it's chicken," Mik said, taking a bite.
"I'm just saying there were a lot more rats around here earlier."
"Circumstantial evidence." Mik took another bite and said, in passable Chimaera and to guffaws of laughter, "Salty delicious rat."
"It's chicken," insisted one of the Shadows That Live. Karou wasn't sure which it was, but she was flapping her arms like wings, and even producing chicken bones to prove it. — Laini Taylor

I promise you, Cole Bridge, that in honor of the little child you once were, I will never forget that JB is a gift from God. I will honor his unique, gorgeous person with enough love for both him and the memory of a little boy who deserved so much more than he got, for as long as I live and beyond."
She kissed his lips.
"Amen."
He held her close and kissed her hard, her tears salty on both of their lips. "You are so much. I have no words."
"I know," she said. "I feel that way about you too. — Debra Anastasia

My favorite food in the world is Mexican food. I'm not a dessert person. I'm more of a crunchy, salty girl. I could live on chips and salsa. I would take a Mexican meal over some fancy French cuisine anytime. — Michelle Pfeiffer

Dangerous as a lightning strike, as lethal as a pair of crisscrossing short swords, William whispered, "You're about to find out how your liver tastes, my friend."
"I have tasted it already," Zacharel said, his voice its usual monotone. The snowflakes began to fall in earnest, tiny at first, but growing in diameter. An arctic wind blustered around him. "It was a bit salty."
How the hell was a guy supposed to respond to that?
Apparently William didn't know, either, because he gaped at the angel. Then, "Maybe if you added a little pepper?"
O-kay. It was official. William had an answer for everything. — Gena Showalter

After all, Christmastide is the time of year for warming brandies, for assertive burgundies and meaty Medoc wines, and for gladsome whiskies. And an Islay malt: well, this is the octave of St Andrew, and you will doubtless recall that he is not only the patron saint of Alba, of Scotland, but was also a fisherman. How better to toast my favorite apostle (he being all the things I personally am not, starting with humble and self-effacing) than with the sea-salty dram of an Islay whisky? — Markham Shaw Pyle

Place this salt in water and bring it here tomorrow morning".
The boy did.
"Where is that salt?" his father asked?
"I do not see it."
"Sip here. How does it taste?"
"Salty, father."
"And here? And there?"
"I taste salt everywhere."
"It is everywhere, though we see it not. Just so, dear one, the Self is everywhere, within all things, although we see it not. There is nothing that does not come from it. It is the truth; it is the Self supreme. You are that, Shvetaketu.
You Are That. — Eknath Easwaran

I inhale, and the two best smells in my world get trapped in my lungs: the salty, cool sting of the ocean in the morning and sweet, morning-sweaty smell of Whit. — Steph Campbell

[On Jason Mashak's "I Was Trained to See Shadows", in his poetry book SALTY AS A LIP:] A nice bit of smooth, full-bodied, surreal story telling. I like it. — John Bennett

He takes my face with two hands. His eyes drink in every part, and then a slight pause, hesitation perhaps. For a moment, he turns away and then with the same intensity as when he closed the distance between us, he pulls me against him and kisses me. He kisses me firmly with his soft and hungry mouth. He tastes salty and sweet, and I fall deep into a blinding torrent of wonder. — Cindy Martinusen Coloma

He sauntered to the counter. "What can I do for you?"
The red bandana he wore held back the hair that typically covered his eyes. I loved his eyes. Chocolate-brown, full of mischief and a spark ready to light the world on fire. "Can I have a glass of water, please?" And please let it be free.
"Is that it?"
My stomach growled, loud enough for Noah to hear. "Yep, that's it."
He fixed me a glass and handed it to me. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a burger? A nice thick burger on a toasted bun with salty fries on the side?"
I sucked on my straw, gulping the ice water down. Funny, water didn't give me that warm, fuzzy, full feeling like a burger and fries would. "I'm fine, thank you."
"Suit yourself. You see that nice-looking piece of meat right there?" He motioned to the patty frying. The aroma made my mouth water. — Katie McGarry

Both are salty, one will give me carpal tunnel, I'll go with the fries. — Iliza Shlesinger

People have been frying foods since Jesus was on this planet, and there is always going to be greasy, fried, salty, sugary food. It is up to the individual to walk in and say, 'I don't want those fries today.' — Richard Simmons

We have heard enough about being practical and efficient and prudent. We heard it preached through several decades that these things would save the world. I think that, with the salty taste of blood and sweat on our lips, we are learning that we had best talk once again about doing what is right. — Ellis Arnall

She sniffed again. "If I become a vampire, will I stop crying every time I get pissed off? Because that would be definite mark in the plus column."
Carwyn chuckled. "I've no idea, but your tears would be kind of pink. Very ... cute."
"Great," she swiped at her cheeks that were dusted with salty frost. "So I'd look stupid and I'd stain my clothes. — Elizabeth Hunter

Years passed. The trees in our yard grew taller. I watched my family and my friends and neighbors, the teachers whom I'd had or imaged having, the high school I had dreamed about. As I sat in the gazebo I would pretend instead that I was sitting on the topmost branch of the maple under which my brother had swallowed a stick and still played hide-and-seek with Nate, or I would perch on the railing of a stairwell in New York and wait for Ruth to pass near. I would study with Ray. Drive the Pacific Coast Highway on a warm afternoon of salty air with my mother. But I would end each day with my father in his den.
I would lay these photographs down in my mind, those gathered from my constant watching, and I could trace how one thing- my death- connected these images to a single source. No one could have predicted how my loss would change small moments on Earth. But I held on to those moments, hoarded them. None of them were lost as long as I was there. — Alice Sebold

Her smile joined his, her thoughtful green eyes studying his face. "Do you know what I want to do right now?"
Rick placed the cloth napkin across his lap. He should have asked for a less conspicuous table. "Tell me."
Samantha picked up a bread stick, examined it for a moment, then slowly licked the length of it. "Mm, salty goodness," she murmured.
"Christ. Cease and desist before I split my zipper."
"Oh, then I would have to sit on your lap in my short dress to protect your modesty." She leaned forward, gazing at him serenely. "Comfortable? — Suzanne Enoch

The waves wash in, warm and salty,
leaving your eyebrows white and
the edge of your cheekbone. Your ear
aches. You are lonely. On the
underside of a satin leaf, hot
with shade, a scorpion sleeps. And
one Sunday I will be shot brushing
my teeth. I am a native of this island. — Frank O'Hara

I confess that my stomach does not take to this style of cooking. I cannot accept calves sweetbreads swimming in a salty sauce, nor can I eat mince consisting of turkey, hare, and rabbit, which they try to persuade me comes from a single animal ... As for the cooks, I really cannot be expected to put up with this ham essence, nor the excessive quantity of morels and other mushrooms, pepper, and nutmeg with which they disguise perfectly good food. — Voltaire

my lips, I bend down and swipe my tongue over the little slit at his tip. He teased me before, and now it's time for some payback. I'm going to worship every inch of Jamie Canning's cock. I'm going to torment him with my tongue until he can't remember a time when my mouth wasn't on his dick bringing him pleasure. I'm going to - Jamie comes the second I wrap my lips around him. Yup, he fucking comes, and I don't know whether to laugh or groan as he starts to shake with release. In the end I do neither - I suck him all the way down to the base, drawing a strangled cry from his lips as I swallow the salty drops that shoot down my throat. — Sarina Bowen

I think only one thing.
Where 's Octavia?
As I get closer to the bottom, I notice that it's water that I'm falling into. It's salty-green and smooth, until ...
I'm driven through the surface and go deeper. I'm surrounded.
I'm drowning. I think. I'm drowning.
But I'm smiling too. — Markus Zusak

It's not for me. I tried human flesh and it's too salty for my taste. — Idi Amin

Just so you know, the authors lie when they say it tastes sweet and salty. I will tell you the truth, it is slimy, gooey and thick. Yes, thick. Gross, but I did it for Jake, my husband, the love of my life. — Victoria Andrews

Bacon. Crispy. Salty. I could just eat a mountain of bacon for breakfast; it's so delicious. — Willie Geist

I felt sad because I knew I couldn't hold the ocean's beauty for long enough, nor the sun and the salty wind; and yet, I was happy because I knew I took part of the ocean with me, and the remembrance of the ages with the salt impregnated onto my skin. This is how I felt as the sun was setting, dipping into the ocean, slowly moaning in silence, as the salt and wind eclipsed it, and silence broke free with the night's veil of shadows. — P.A. Wunderlich

I kissed her salty tears and murmured, murmured I don't know what. I felt her body straining, straining to meet mine and I felt my own contracting and drawing away and I knew that I had begun the long fall down. — James Baldwin

There's always been sadness hidden at the core of Hitch, but it's never been big enough to taste. Occasionally, I'd get a whiff of it, salty on the wind, but it never pressed in between us like it does now, threatening to drown us both. — Stacey Jay

There was a tiny house in town
That had always stayed the same,
Home to a girl wearing a sundress
Calling each flower by name.
It was the calm within the chaos,
The sun around which we revolved,
As stubborn as a stone
In its refusal to evolve.
I thought it had forever
Trapped within its weathered walls,
Watching all the lives
They built around its rise and fall.
But one day with no warning
The world felt shallower and strange,
And the view outside my window
Seemed to all at once have changed.
I ran with lungs near bursting
To that tiny house in town,
Yet the ashes of forever
Was the only thing I found.
Walking home it felt the world
Was made of me and salty tears,
And the woman in a sundress
Who watched me slowly disappear. — Emily Hanson

Tears ache in my throat and each time his lips caress mine I'm closer to the dam within me bursting open. He's undoing me, tearing out my demons with burning strokes of his lips and the salty taste of his mouth. In his arms, I'm changing, becoming anew. — Sarah Noffke

I have been known to go to the grocery store and just buy pepperoni. There's just something fantastic about salty, fatty meats. — Rachel Nichols

I'd say that most of these [poems in Jason Mashak's book SALTY AS A LIP] are just straightforward enough, but not entirely explainable or attributable to a single cause/effect, which makes them the kind of poems I want to read many times ... "Salty as a lip" is my favorite. It's so alive: strange and human / earthy and raw. Mysterious but grounded. Mashak has manifested paradox, it seems. Bravo! — Sage Cohen

Two big hands cup my ass and pull me down onto his face. When his tongue glides over me, I almost come on the spot. Taking a breath, I grasp his cock in one hand and lower my mouth to his engorged head. I give a tiny lick, then breathe out, "Better?" His response is a hungry growl punctuated by the brush of his tongue on my clit. I wrap my lips around him and suck gently, the salty flavor of him tickling my tongue and heating my blood. He tastes delicious. He's thick and hard and throbbing in my mouth, and it's the hottest thing in the whole damn world. I don't know how long we lie in this position, torturing each other with greedy licks and deep sucks, but just as the first tingles of orgasm warm the base of my spine, Blake abruptly yanks me off of him and flips me over. "Cheezus!" he spits out. "If I don't fuck you right now, I'm gonna die, Jessie. — Sarina Bowen

As I sat in the hot, salty water, I thought, 'No wonder Mr. Bubble always gives me a urinary tract infection and hives.' Mr. Bubble was for common people. Mr. Bubble was for my so-called brother, their true child. I was a Vanderbilt. I should bathe in condiments and seasonings. — Augusten Burroughs

I could barely breathe as I fled down the steps, like something was stuck in my throat. I couldn't tell what flavor it was; it tasted salty like tears, but it was sharp as broken glass. — Laura Bickle

But I promise you, you guys can do it. In four days you'll be the happiest person Earth has ever seen. You'll stand by the ocean and feel the salty sea spray tingling in your nose. You'll be with people you know and love, and you'all appreciate how beautiful everything is. You'll se cars behind you in your rear view mirror, and maybe you'll laugh at the driver's faces. Because they'll look annoyed, bored, angry. And you'll realize what they're missing. You'll live a long and happy life, Mia. Because when you get home, you'll realize that anything is possible. You mustn't ever forget that. — Johan Harstad

I made arrangements with Bitaki, a teammate on the soccer team I played with, to go fishing with his brothers, who typically worked the waters off Maiana, the nearest island south of Tarawa. When I mentioned to Sylvia that I was going, she said: "No, you're not." "And what do you mean by 'No, you're not'?" I determined right then that I would go out fishing every week. No, every day. I would become a professional fisherman. I would become sun-browned and sea-weathered. I would smell like fish. I would be a Salty Dog. "I mean," Sylvia said, "that when the engine dies and you start drifting, which will happen, because things like that do seem to happen to you, you will not survive two days. Your skin will fry, you will collapse from dehydration, and because you will be the most useless person on the boat, you will be regarded by the others as a potential food source." I didn't like the imagery here. — J. Maarten Troost