Sorry But Sweet Quotes & Sayings

Claire happy to no longer expect ... but embrace the sweet lovely mess that is real life. — Jess Walter

From his soft fur, golden and brown, Goes out so sweet a scent, one night I might have been embalmed in it By giving him one little pet. He is my household's guardian soul; He judges, he presides, inspires All matters in his royal realm; Might he be fairy? or a god? When my eyes, to this cat I love Drawn as by a magnet's force, Turn tamely back upon that appeal, And when I look within myself, I notice with astonishment The fire of his opal eyes, Clear beacons glowing, living jewels, Taking my measure, steadily. — Charles Baudelaire

But I'm liking staying here if it means I get to check out two hot chicks every morning." Crisis winked at me, but when he looked at Logan, he was backtracking. "From a distance. Like a mile. Maybe ten miles. Fuck, sorry sweet stuff, but not going to admire you at all. I'll just admire Kat. — Nashoda Rose

Revenge isn't always as sweet as it seems — Sarah Jakes

I can't help it, and I'm not sorry for it; I'm even a little proud. People think I'm cold and unfeeling, but that's a price I've always been willing to pay. The truth is that I'm beyond help; most people are; and it only angers me to see my sisters or my friends here in town wasting their time. To forestall or cover my anger, I jump in front of them, and suddenly I myself have turned into the person come to provide comfort, reassurance, help, whatever it is they originally desired to provide me with. I take their occasion and make it my own. — Russell Banks

Augustus Waters," she said. "Um, maybe?" "Oh, my God. I've seen him at parties. The things I would do to that boy. I mean, not now that I know you're interested in him. But, oh, sweet holy Lord, I would ride that one-legged pony all the way around the corral." "Kaitlyn," I said. "Sorry. Do you think you'd have to be on top?" "Kaitlyn," I said. — John Green

Inez, I'm sorry," Thomas said quietly, his expression earnest. "I had no choice. You were dying, and besides you agreed to the turn the night before. Didn't you?" He frowned and muttered, "Of course, it was right after you'd nearly drowned and you might not have really understood what was going on at the time. Do you even love me? You nodded to that too, but ... " He raised his head and said solemnly, "I'm sorry if you're upset about being turned, but I'm not sorry for doing it. Because whether you love me or not, Inez, I love you. You're strong, and brilliant and sweet and have a strength I've never seen in other women. This last week you've done whatever was required of you to help find Marguerite without complaint or allowing fear to stop you, even going so far as being the bait in the trap." He scowled and then admitted, "Though I have to say I thought that was rather foolish. I was really pissed at you for putting your life at risk like that. — Lynsay Sands

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with."
"He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire," Evie countered.
That seemed to amuse Lillian further. "I'm not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don't say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time? — Lisa Kleypas

Sweet Jesus, you're wearing stockings.
Christian Grey — E.L. James

But I'm no good at apologizing. I always end up making it worse. I'll say, "I'm sorry," and I'll be all sweet, and then once I'm forgiven, I'll say, "But you really did start it. — Rainbow Rowell

I'm not one of those people that wears something once and tosses it aside. I wear my shoes until they beg to be thrown away. Parting is such sweet sorrow - and then it's onto the next pair. — Rachel Nichols

Time, That Is Pleased to Lengthen out the Day

Time, that is pleased to lengthen out the day
For grieving lovers parted or denied,
And pleased to hurry the sweet hours away
From such as lie enchanted side by side,
Is not my kinsman; nay, my feudal foe
Is he that in my childhood was the thief
Of all my mother's beauty, and in woe
My father bowed, and brought our house to grief.
Thus, though he think to touch with hateful frost
Your treasured curls, and your clear forehead line,
And so persuade me from you, he has lost;
Never shall he inherit what was mine.
When Time and all his tricks have done their worst,
Still will I hold you dear, and him accurst. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

You heard me, only Friend whom I love. To ravish my heart, you became man. You shed your blood, what a supreme mystery! ... And you still live for me on the Altar. If I cannot see the brilliance of your Face Or hear your sweet voice, O my God, I can live by your grace, I can rest on your Sacred Heart! — Therese Of Lisieux

I'm sorry," was all I could muster.
"You dont have to be sorry.You didn't do it"
"I know.But I dont know what else to say.Unless ... "
I could see the tears running down her cheeks, and the fact that she'd been crying so silently made me ache.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you want me to ... I dont know.Beat the crap out of him?"
She gave me a sad little laugh."You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do just that"
"I will,"I said."Just give me a name, but I promise to leave you out of it.I'll do the rest"
She squeezed my hand. "I know you would."
"I'm serious,"I said.
She gave me wan smile."That's why I won"'t tell you.But believe me, I'm touched.That's sweet of you. — Nicholas Sparks

But the men tonight were paid to kill a newlywed man and his wife," his arms gave me a squeeze, "I lose no sleep for them and you shouldn't either." "But you were awake," I pointed out. "Yes, I was, because my wee wife trembles against me in her sleep," he informed me. God, that was sweet. "Sorry, Frey," I whispered. "Do not be sorry, be drowsy," he ordered. — Kristen Ashley

Jason had to bury his face against her shoulder to keep from laughing out loud. She was just so damn cute. "Stop laughing at me! I'm a threat, damn it!"
Jason pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "No, you're my sweet little grasshopper. — R.L. Mathewson

In our world of rampant 'individualisation', relationships are mixed blessings. They vacillate between a sweet dream and a nightmare, and there is no telling when one turns into the other. — Zygmunt Bauman

Life is not going to be sweet all the time. — Chris Bosh

Forget-me-nots... She loved those flowers more than any other in their big beautiful garden or in the whole wide world for that matter. They were sky blue, just like his eyes, they held a promise... Forget me not. — Melanie Sargsian

I watched you. From the moment you walked in that bar, I saw you. Amongst all the shallow and the fake, you looked like sping, and then you got close and I was right because you smelled like jasmine. When you turned around to leave I thought I was wrong because why did someone as sweet as spring think that life wasn't meant for her? There was no light in your eyes, and somehow, even though I barely knew you, it left an ache in my chest. How could I let you walk away? — Kate McCarthy

Today's Valentine's Day. There's a whole day devoted solely to love. Does that make any sense? Nah. Love makes us all crazy. But it's fun too. — Lisa Greenwald

When we complain of having to do the same thing over and over, let us remember that God does not send new trees, strange flowers and different grasses every year. When the spring winds blow, they blow in the same way. In the same places the same dear blossoms lift up the same sweet faces, yet they never weary us. When it rains, it rains as it always has. Even so would the same tasks which fill our daily lives put on new meanings if we wrought them in the spirit of renewal from within
a spirit of growth and beauty. — Helen Keller

The entrant mooed like a calf but in insolence looked about him. Hew saw Kit. Kit saw him. Nay, it was more than pure seeing. It was Jove's bolt. It was, to borrow from the papists, the bell of the consecration. It was the revelation of the possibility nay the certainty of the probability or somewhat of the kind of the. It was the sharp knife of a sort of truth in the disguise of danger. Both went out together, and it was as if they were entering, rather than leaving, the corridor outside with its sour and burly servant languidly asweep with his broom, the major-domo in livery hovering, transformed to a sweet bower of assignation, though neither knew the other save in a covenant familiar through experience unrecorded and unrecordable whose terms were not of time and to which space was a child's puzzle. — Anthony Burgess

a breakaway backhander that went top shelf over Flyer goalie Ron Hextall and showed that he had some sweet sauce in his mitts and not just C4 explosives. The — Todd Smith

I pushed her shiny blond hair away from her face and leaned down, our faces only inches apart. She inhaled softly, our lips so close I could feel her breath and the scent of her skin, like honeysuckle in springtime. She smelled like sweet tea and old books, like she had always been here.
I pulled my fingers through her hair and held it at the back of her neck. Her skin was soft and warm, like a Mortal girl's. There was no electric current, no shocks. We could kiss for as long as we wanted. If we had a fight, there wouldn't be a flood or a hurricane, or even a storm. I wouldn't find her on the ceiling of her bedroom. No windows would shatter. No exams would catch fire.
Liv held up her face to be kissed.
She wanted me. — Kami Garcia

I know. I'm sorry. I needed to see you, Emily. I know we only spent one night together, but I can't get you out of my head. I miss you like I'd miss a piece of my own body." Melt. That was so sweet. — Alice Ward

Adam returned his gaze to the cross. The Jesus was hurting. Guilt simmered and then boiled in him. Jesus had a whole world of suffering and horror to worry about and here Adam was in all his punk puniness. He didn't want to add to Jesus's burdens, but...

'Sorry about that. Look, I know you're busy and I don't want to get greedy with your time, but still, if you could just help me... If you could find a minute, please, please, please, dear sweet Jesus, fix me. — Teresa Toten

The name on her shop certainly wasn't going to be Mrs. Betts, because Russell was a jerk. Definitely not superhero material. Hell, he wasn't even qualified to be a sidekick. She should have known. A man without a sweet tooth was not to be trusted. She snorted softly. He'd be so sorry he'd cheated on her when she ruled the confectionary world. Right now, however, she was a server and part-time pastry chef at Rastinelli's Trattoria. Actually, she'd filled in for the pastry chef only once, but it was a start. — Kristen Painter

I'm a real woman who digests her meals and breaks out and has sweet little pockets of cellulite on her upper thighs that she's not apologizing for. Because guess what? We all have that shit. We're all human beings. — Amy Schumer

Your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, — Suzanne Collins

I sure do miss that woman. Smart. Funny. Sweet. She never gave me a moment's trouble."
"Gosh, I'm sorry about that. I knew it was boring between you two, but not that bad. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Barbecue sauce is like a beautiful woman. If it's too sweet, it's bound to be hiding something. — Lyle Lovett

-What's so funny?"
"-Sorry," David said, reddening again. "You just taste so sweet."
"-What do you mean, sweet?"
He licked his bottom lip one more time.
"-You taste like honey."
"-Honey?"
"-Yeah, I thought I was going nuts the day ... well, you know, that one day. But it was the same today. Your mouth is really sweet."
He paused for a second, then grinned.
"-Hot like honey-like nectar. That makes more sense."
"-Great. Now I'm going to have to explain that to everyone I kiss for the rest of my life unless it's you or another faerie."
She'd almost said Tamani's name. Her fingers flew to the ring around her neck.
David shrugged.
"-Then don't kiss anyone except me."
"-David ... "
"-I'm just offering up the obvious solution," he said, hands up in protest. — Aprilynne Pike

As a girl she had imagined the Milky Way was the curtain of heaven, a notion she had been sorry to abandon as she had grown up. But she would not abandon a belief in heaven itself, wherever that may be, because she felt that if she gave that up then there would be very little left. Heaven may not turn out to be the place of her imagining, she conceded
the place envisaged in the old Botswana stories, a place inhabited by gentle white cattle, with sweet breath
but it would surely be something not too unlike that, at least in the way it felt; a place where late people would be give all that they had lacked on this earth
a place of love for those who had not been loved, a place where those who had had nothing would find they had everything the human heart could desire. — Alexander McCall Smith

I won't say I'm sorry." He lifted his hand, skimmed his fingers over her cheek. "I wouldn't mean it. But I will say I love you. I've never meant anything more."
He drew her into his arms. She pressed her face to his shoulder and held on. "I've been so messed up."
"So have I." He brushed his lips over her hair, felt his world balance again. "I've missed you, Eve."
"I won't let the job screw this up."
"It doesn't. We manage that on our own." He drew her back, touched his lips gently to hers. "But it keeps things lively, doesn't it?"
She sighed, stepped back. "It's gone."
"What is?"
"I've had this low-grade headache for a couple of days. It's gone. I guess you were my headache."
"Darling. That's so sweet. — J.D. Robb

Those who have slept with sorry in their hearts
Know all too well how short but sweet
The instant of their coming-to can be:
The heart is strong, as if it ever sorrowed;
The mind's dear clarity intact; and then,
The vast, unhappy stone from yesterday
Rolls down these vital units to the bottom of oneself. — Christopher Logue

I'm sorry I can't do more. But happy birthday, Sadie.
He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. — Rick Riordan

Kitty, I am sorry if I misled you but..."
"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes and slid next to him placing her mouth on his ear. Evan groaned as he felt her fingers on the tent at his pants. The scent of her skin hit his nostrils like sweet, exotic perfume and right then he longed to bury his head in her shoulder, to eat her out and make her cum before he fucked her ass. "I know what you need and all those filthy things you crave to do with her. Punish her, claim her as really yours, fuck her till she screams, make her beg on her hands and knees. — Lilah E. Noir

People might feel sorry for a man who's fallen on hard times, but when an entire nation is poor, the rest of the world assumes that all its people must be brainless, lazy, dirty, clumsy fools. Instead of pity, the people provoke laughter. It's all a joke: their culture, their customs, their practices. In time the rest of the world may, some of them, begin to feel ashamed for having thought this way, and when they look around and see immigrants from that poor country mopping their floors and doing all the other lowest paying jobs, naturally they worry about what might happen if these workers one day rose up against them. So, to keep things sweet, they start taking an interest in the immigrants' culture and sometimes even pretend they think of them as equals. — Orhan Pamuk

Look, girls. It is important to all of us that we win this game, right? Well, when it comes to athletics, boys are simply better suited than girls. It's a fact of nature that no one can change. I'm sorry, but maybe you can play next time when it's less crucial. — Francine Pascal

Noah held my hand and my bag as he escorted me to the third floor - the Women's Pavilion. The elevator bell rang and the doors opened.
"Jesus, Echo, circulation in my hand would be a good thing," said Noah.
"Sorry." I tried to let go, but Noah kept his fingers linked with mine. — Katie McGarry

I'm sorry you got dragged into this." He waved a hand to indicate he meant the house, the entire situation. "Having to stay here, with me, when you should be home with your family." A pang of homesickness hit her as she thought of her parents and how disappointed they'd been that her leave had been "cancelled". That wasn't his fault though.
To ease his concern, she put on a smile. "Yeah, but hey, I could've done way worse in terms of roommates." She gave his leg a playful nudge with her hand.
His eyes warmed at her words and touch. The firelight brought out the deep bronze undertones in his hair, flickering in tones of gold and orange. She wanted to run her fingers through it to find out if it was as soft as it looked.
He shook his head slightly at her, looking amused. "Why'd you have to be so sweet?"
She shrugged and countered, "Why'd you have to be so damned good looking? — Kaylea Cross

New Rule: Stop putting all those pillows on the bed. Attention, interior designers, hotel maids, and real housewives of New Jersey: It's a bed, not an obstacle course. I'm sorry, baby, I'd like to make sweet love to you all night long, but by the time I get all that crap off your bed, I'm exhausted. A bed needs only two pillows: one to put my head on, and one to cuddle with and pretend it's Robert Pattinson. — Bill Maher

Annabeth," he said hesitantly, "in New Rome, demigods can live their whole lives in peace."
Her expression turned guarded. "Reyna explained it to me. But, Percy, you belong at Camp Half-Blood. That other life - "
"I know," Percy said. "But while I was there, I saw so many demigods living without fear: kids going to college, couples getting married and raising families. There's nothing like that at Camp Half-Blood. I kept thinking about you and me ... and maybe someday when this war with the giants is over ... "
It was hard to tell in the golden light, but he thought Annabeth was blushing. "Oh," she said ...
"I'm sorry," he said. "I just ... I had to think of that to keep going. To give me hope. Forget I mentioned - "
"No!" she said. "Gods, Percy, that's so sweet. — Rick Riordan

Roan rested his forehead against his and put a hand on his chest. Sweet man, one he didn't
deserve. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"The insanity that is my life. Me."
"Hey, I signed up for this ride. I knew from past experience that sexy men were always trouble,
and it wasn't like your reputation didn't precede you. I have no one to blame but myself."
"You think I'm sexy?"
"Don't fish for compliments. — Andrea Speed

Oh, ants, my sisters, good old honeydew-seekers! From close up you are sticky and shiny and gristly; and your nymphs have parasitic red mites stuck to them. You are too intent upon your chewing and gathering to listen to me, but I tell you that despite my warm feelings I really do not like you, and I cannot feel sorry for you in any way because there are too many of you and you are not cute at all. You eat too much of my forests; you are a rebellious tribe, and I will destroy you; I will poison your nests with sweet-smelling traps. — William T. Vollmann

You love Robert, not me. You don't love Lord Stuffy, so I tried to be like Robert."
The sweet idiot! She felt like weeping again. She began to protest, but he cut her off.
"I don't drink and I don't gamble and I don't have a mistress. I'm dull. You told me so, the first time we met. So I tried to change." He frowned. "Not the mistress. I'll never do that."
"Good," she whispered.
"I'm trying to be like Robert, but I'm no good at it. I drank wine. And brandy, lots of it. I didn't like it and it made me sick. I played hazard and I lost." He looked momentarily cheerful and her heart sank. "But I didn't like that either. If I was a real man like Mr. Fox, or Robert, I'd have lost thousands."
The sadder he looked, the more her heart ached, a happy ache.
"I failed you, Caro. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll always be Lord Stuffy," he said, and closed his tortured, bloodshot eyes. — Miranda Neville

I'm sorry I could never see myself out
of the twitching fever of my heartache,
that I traded everything we had for
something that never ended up being.
But if I could take anything back, it wouldn't be
the glittering hope I stuck in the amber of your eyes,
or the sweet eager of our conversations.
No, it would be that last stony path to nothing,
when we both gave up without telling the other.
How silence arrived like a returned valentine
on that morning
we finally taught our phones not to ring. — Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

Lock looked down at the green wooden floor between his black boots. "I can't blame you for what you feel, my lady. But I can't help what I feel, either." "I'm so sorry." Kat put a hand on his knee to comfort him. Then she pulled it away quickly. "Oh, I didn't think. Did that hurt you just now? Me touching you without Deep being here?" "A little." Lock gave her a sad smile and put her hand back on his knee. "But it's worth it." "That's sweet." He looked so dejected and his feelings of sadness and loss were so overwhelming, Kat felt like she was going to cry if they sat that way much longer. — Evangeline Anderson

Sure, I buried it. I buried it and buried it and turned away from everything light and sweet and delicate and lovely and became so scared and scarred and burdened and fucked up. But that goodness is there, inside - it must be. — Nic Sheff

I think what happens when there's a scandal in your life, the things you depended on are taken away from you, and so you value what you have. I had two very nice little boys, so sweet, and a very good husband. — Kimberly Quinn

They said that love was terrifying and tender, wild and sweet, and none of it made any sense.
But now I knew that every mad word was true. — Rosamund Hodge

If you want to get anywhere in religion, you got to keep it sweet. — Flannery O'Connor

A bitter sweet tale of how life cannot be planned and love comes when we don't expect it in all shapes and forms. — Annette J. Dunlea

I played a real nasty little girl but most of the roles I had up until then were very sweet and very nice. — Morgan Brittany

Some were bitter. Some were sweet. Some were hardly anything. That was just the way of things. — Patrick Rothfuss

If I could tell you about Red
I would sing to you of fire Sweet like cherries
Burning like cinnamon Smelling like a rose in the sun — Dixie Dawn Miller Goode

I still don't have a turkey, Mason. It slid across the floor of the Piggly Wiggly and knocked over a tower of canned sweet potatoes. — Denise Grover Swank

We wear our lives
Like costumes
Use bills and coins like props
In an over budget production
That we cannot seem to stop
So it just goes on like this
As if we accept this
As if we've all become
Buddhas of mass production
Our brains rotting
Like teeth
Under the sweet
Unending bliss of false enlightenment. — Shane Koyczan

I want someone honest, someone who's very sweet to my family and friends, and polite to the other people around me. — Selena Gomez

She wanted to be his candle, to light the darkness in his soul, to burn in the window and show him the way home. She wanted to be his rain, a sweet storm of the senses. She wanted to be his warmth, a solace for his soul. — Alison Kent

I just figured out what you are," he said.
"What?"
"You're a present." He nodded as if in satisfaction. "Tightly wrapped, with lots of tape, lots of beautiful shiny ribbon, all tied up in impossible knots. The kind of present that makes you half mad when you're trying to get it open. Because you know, the whole time, what's inside is going to be wonderful. — Sierra Donovan

Woe to the deer who is courted by the charismatic wolf, or to the fly who is not immune to the sweet, sultry songs of the spider. — Nenia Campbell

It was one of those rare times of shared happiness, of perfect contentment. We had a feeling of expectation, that what was already wonderful would only get better and better as time went on. These moments are one of the rarest, most fragile things in the world. You have to seize the day; you have to recall all the rotten, dirty things you endured to earn this peace. You have to remember to enjoy each minute, each hour, because although you may feel like it's going to last forever, the world plans otherwise. You want to be grateful for every precious second, but you simply can't do it. It's not in human nature to live life to the fullest. Haven't your ever noticed that equal amounts of pain and joy are not, in fact, equal in duration? Pain drags on until you wonder if life will ever be bearable again; pleasure, though, once it's reached its peak, fades faster than a trodden gardenia, and your memory searches in vain for the sweet scent. — George Alec Effinger

Patience is a bitter plant that produces sweet fruit. — Charles R. Swindoll

Such actions are beyond praise: it is the perfume of such sweet and noble human sympathy that makes this wild beasts' cage a world habitable for men. — Frank Harris

We are inside soft, sweet and pure white despair. — Eiji Mikage

I own your pleasure, sweet Ellie. You come when I say you can, understood? — M.S. Force

Monday ushers in a particularly impressive clientele of red-eyed people properly pressed into dry-cleaned suits in neutral tones. They leave their equally well-buttoned children idling in SUVs while dashing to grab double-Americanos and foamy sweet lattes, before click-clacking hasty escapes in ass-sculpting heels and polished loafers with bowl-shaped haircuts that age every face to 40. My imagination speed evolves their unfortunate offspring from car seat-strapped oxygen-starved fast-blooming locusts, to the knuckle-drag harried downtown troglodytes they'll inevitably become. One by one I capture their flat-formed heads between index finger and thumb for a little crush-crush-crushing, ever aware that if I'm lucky one day their charitable contributions will fund my frown-faced found art project to baffle someone's hallway. — Amanda Sledz

I turned, gaze sweeping the restaurant until I'd zeroed in on my sweet yellow Lab all crouched under a table, chewing on a shiny gold stiletto a diner had slipped off her foot. — Alyson Noel

Good dog,' she said, stoking his head. 'Good sweet dog.' That was one of the great things about dogs. They always loved you no matter what was going on. — R.L. Stine

It was like a dam of musical critique had broken. Imasu turned on him with eyes that flashed instead of shining. It is worse than you can possibly imagine! When you play, all of my mother's flowers lose the will to live and expire on the instant. The quinoa has no flavour now. The llamas are migrating because of your music, and llamas are not a migratory animal. The children now believe there is a sickly monster, half horse and half large mournful chicken, that lives in tha lake and calls out to the world to grant it the sweet release of death. — Cassandra Clare

I'm like most women. I want a steamy romance novel, or something sweet and tender." "I knew the romance genre was big, especially with women, but I never really understood why." "Seriously? Let's just say that the next best thing to having sex, is reading about people having sex. If you're not able to snag any for yourself, you damn sure want to be reading about two people who have guaranteed odds at doing the deed. — Lustful Desires Bundle

I believe in the soul ... the small of a woman's back, the hanging curveball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days. — Kevin Costner

To bring the best human qualities to anything like perfection, to fill them with the sweet juices of courtesy and charity, prosperity, or, at all events, a moderate amount of it, is required,
just as sunshine is needed for the ripening of peaches and apricots. — Alexander Smith

Revenge was sweet, but blood was sweeter. — Nadege Richards

Deadly poisons are concealed under sweet honey. — Ovid

The day Stamp Paid saw the two backs through the window and then hurried down the steps, he believed the undecipherable language clamoring around the house was the mumbling of the black and angry dead. Very few had died in bed, like Baby Suggs, and none that he knew of, including Baby, had lived a livable life. Even the educated colored: the long-school people, the doctors, the teachers, the paper-writers and businessmen had a hard row to hoe. In addition to having to use their heads to get ahead, they had the weight of the whole race sitting there. You needed two heads for that. Whitepeople believed that whatever the manners, under every dark skin was a jungle. Swift unnavigable waters, swinging screaming baboons, sleeping snakes, red gums ready for their sweet white blood. — Toni Morrison

Wen thectaste of my own medicine is given to me results into silent treatment,its not bitter therefore i enjoy the medicine i gave you too. — Mohlalefi J Motsima

So invite me in."
Now that way lay trouble. "What are you, a vampire that needs an invitation?"
"Worse. I'm a Sweet. — Avery Flynn

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like season'd timbered, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives. — George Herbert

Is there something I can do?"
"About what?" she snapped.
"About your problem," he persisted. "Does anybody's ass need kicking? I can take care of that for you. I kick good ass."
Her laughter rang out, sweet and bright and gorgeous. "Wow," she said. "You'd do that for me? After, what has it been now, a fifteen-minute acquaintance? Twenty, maybe, tops?"
He considered that, and opened his mouth, and the raw, uncut, uncensored truth just plopped right out. "Yeah," he said. "I would. — Shannon McKenna

We can't stop staring at each other. Saying nothing, nothing to say. I trace the curve of his jaw and throat, the sweet spot below his ear, with only my eyes, because he's too faraway to touch. We stare and we stare and I can't stop myself from smiling, because he's smiling, too. We don't have to speak to have this conversation; in fact, the only way to have it is by not using words. — Megan Hart

The promise was void, like so many other sweet, illusory promises of our childhood; void as promises made in Eden before the seasons were divided, and when the starry blossoms grew side by side with the ripening peach, - impossible to be fulfilled when the golden gates had been passed. — George Eliot

Smell brings to mind ... a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years. — Diane Ackerman

Through other people's bodies she felt neither love nor hate distinctly. Most consciously she felt - she had drunk sweet wine at luncheon - a desire for water. "A beaker of cold water, a beaker of cold water," she repeated, and saw water surrounded by walls of shining glass. — Virginia Woolf