Sweet Honey Quotes & Sayings

They're kids Apollo. Young kids. And they don't need to know their father has a bed partner."
"I won't exactly be sharing our play second for second at the breakfast table, Madeleine," he stated, his voice turning cold . "But to share your bed with a woman you care about is not something to be ashamed of."
"No, of course not, but - "
"And I'll not communicate that by hiding who you are to me."
That was nice, so nice.
But that didn't mean he wasn't moving too fast.
"That's sweet, honey, but - "
"And I'll not have it communicated to my children ... in any way ... that the act of love between two agreeable adults is something to hide because it's shameful. — Kristen Ashley

Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs; — Oscar Wilde

Honey is not always sweet. So is life — Angel Phetheni

Paul prays in Ephesians 3:19 that we may "know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge." And he says in Philippians 3:8, "I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." This knowing is no mere intellectual knowledge. The devils have such knowledge and tremble (Jas. 2:19). This knowing "surpasses knowledge." This knowing includes tasting and seeing. It is the knowledge of honey that you have only when you put it on your tongue and taste that it is sweet. Therefore, knowing Christ in this way means seeing him for who he really is and enjoying him above all things. — John Piper

She was indeed a girl of exquisite beauty. She was one of those languid women made of dark honey smooth and sweet and terribly sticky. — Patrick Suskind

When all is said and done, how do we not know but that our own unreason may be better than another's truth? for it has been warmed on our hearths and in our souls, and is ready for the wild bees of truth to hive in it, and make their sweet honey. Come into the world again, wild bees, wild bees! — W.B.Yeats

When I finally calmed down, I handed her the Ewok. "Can you go back and give it to him" I said. "Oh, honey," she answered. "That's so sweet of you. But Isabel can clean the Lego set. It'll be good as new for Auggie, don't worry." "No, for the other kid," I answered. She looked at me a second, like she didn't know what to say. "Via said he doesn't speak any English," I sai. "It must be really scary for him, being in the hospital." She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "It must be." She closed her eyes and hugged me again. And then she took me over to the security desk, where I waited until she went back up the elevator and, after about five minutes, came back down again. "Did he like it?" I asked. "Honeyboy," she said softly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "You made his day. — R.J. Palacio

We used to say I don't care if I never have any money As long as I have my sweet honey and a shack in the woodland Now we say I don't care if I don't have money, but it's not true We can't live without money, no, because we don't want to We want one of those and two of those, and oh that one looks neat, wrap it up Put it on my MasterCard. Put it on my Visa And I sing it now, hey hey, hey hey, who woulda thunk it Hey hey, hey hey, who woulda thunk it. — Greg Brown

But what do I love when I love my God? Not the sweet melody of harmony and song; not the fragrance of flowers, perfumes, and spices; not manna or honey; not limbs such as the body delights to embrace. It is not these that I love when I love my God. And yet, when I love Him, it is true that I love a light of a certain kind, a voice, a perfume, a food, an embrace; but they are of the kind that I love in my inner self, when my soul is bathed in light that is not bound by space; when it listens to sound that never dies away; when it breathes fragrance that is not borne away on the wind; when it tastes food that is never consumed by the eating; when it clings to an embrace from which it is not severed by fulfillment of desire. This is what I love when I love my God. — Augustine

The honey is sweet, but the Bee stings. — George Herbert

Not all men are the same, you know. With someone such as Gavriel, I would suggest appearing aloof, not chasing too much. He might see that as suffocating rather than charming.
Her words are sharp, but her voice is sweet, like honey on the edge of a blade, and meant to be cutting. I comfort myself with the knowledge that if Duval ever feels smothered by me, it will be because I am holding a pillow over his face and commending his soul to Mortain. — R.L. LaFevers

To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet. — Pablo Neruda

The old always think the world is getting worse; it is for the young, equipped with historical facts, to point out that, compared with 1509, or even 1939, life in 2009 is sweet as honey. — Hilary Mantel

How to extract its honey from the flower of the world. That is my everyday business. I am as busy as a bee about it. I ramble over fields on that errand and am never so happy as when I feel myself heavy with honey and wax. I am like a bee searching the livelong day for the sweets of nature. — Henry David Thoreau

What drew her into O'Riley's like a bee to honey was the six-foot, broad-shouldered, dark eyes, dark smile of Finn O'Riley himself. — Jill Shalvis

Marriage, which has been the bourne of so many narratives, is still a great beginning, as it was to Adam and Eve, who kept their honey-moon in Eden, but had their first little one among the thorns and thistles of the wilderness. It is still the beginning of the home epic - the gradual conquest or irremediable loss of that complete union which make the advancing years a climax, and age the harvest of sweet memories in common. — George Eliot

Even as I hold you
I think of you as someone gone
far, far away. Your eyes the color
of pennies in a bowl of dark honey
bringing sweet light to someone else
your black hair slipping through my fingers
is the flash of your head going
around a corner
your smile, breaking before me,
the flippant last turn
of a revolving door,
emptying you out, changed,
away from me.
Even as I hold you
I am letting go. — Alice Walker

The spirit of humility is sweeter than honey, and those who nourish themselves with this honey produce sweet fruit. — Anthony Of Padua

These attributes, in spite of poverty and the strict integrity which shut him out from the more worldly successes, attracted to him many admirable persons, as naturally as sweet herbs draw bees, and as naturally he gave them the honey into which fifty years of hard experience had distilled no bitter drop. — Louisa May Alcott

Littlefinger looked like a boy who had just taken a furtive bite from a honeycomb. He was TRYING to watch for bees, but the honey was so sweet. — George R R Martin

Food serves two parallel purposes: it nourishes and it helps you remember. Eating and storytelling are inseparable - the saltwater is also tears; the honey not only tastes sweet, but makes us think of sweetness; the matzo is the bread of our affliction. — Jonathan Safran Foer

But I saw the pair of them, along with everyone else. Hard to miss. Him towering like a raggedy scarecrow in that flapping black scholar's gown, and the sword always quiet next to him, sweet as honey, and poison with it. — Ellen Kushner

avoid refined carbohydrates: white sugar, honey, high-fructose corn syrup, cookies, cakes, pastries, white bread, crackers, potato chips, french fries, commercial waffles, candy, donuts, and many dry breakfast cereals (juice-sweetened cereals listing whole grains as a primary ingredient are okay, but those with added sugar, evaporated cane juice, or honey are likely to raise your levels of tumor-fueling blood sugar and insulin). Instead, emphasize whole grains such as those above, as well as complex carbs such as vegetables, legumes, beans, and fresh fruit. If you crave something sweet, try dried fruit, rice syrup, barley malt, agave, kiwi sweetener, stevia, FruitSource, or maple syrup. — Keith Block

Love is like honey;
sweet even in small quantities. — Matshona Dhliwayo

There was the biography of a Norwegian resistance fighter who swam through chilly oceans and got gangrene and wandered through I think it might have been Finland or Lapland in a sweet short summer and everyone took him in and the dark Finnish women made him tea with honey in it on late afternoons and it was beautiful but also horribly sad because the book was only half over and you knew that bad things were going to happen. — William T. Vollmann

And occasionally a sweet chestnut. Miss Honey, wishing to change the subject for the moment, gave the names of all these to Matilda and taught her how to recognize them by the shape of their leaves and the pattern of the bark on their trunks. Matilda took all this — Roald Dahl

but a man of pleasure like yourself ought to know that all who are in the flower of youth do somehow or other raise a pang or emotion in a lover's breast, and are thought by him to be worthy of his affectionate regards. Is not this a way which you have with the fair: one has a snub nose, and you praise his charming face; the hook-nose of another has, you say, a royal look; while he who is neither snub nor hooked has the grace of regularity: the dark visage is manly, the fair are children of the gods; and as to the sweet 'honey pale,' as they are called, what is the very name but the invention of a lover who talks in diminutives, and is not averse to paleness if appearing on the cheek of youth? In a word, there is no excuse which you will not make, and nothing which you will not say, in order not to lose a single flower that blooms in the spring-time of youth. If — Plato

I am the woman at the water's edge,
offering you oranges for the peeling,
knife glistening in the sun.
This is the scent and taste
of my skin: citon and sweet.
Touch me and your life will unfold
before you, easily as this skirt
billows then sinks,
lapping against my legs, my toes
filtering through the rivers silt.
Following the current out to sea,
I am the kind of woman
who will come back to haunt
your dreams, move through your
humid nights the way honey
swirls through a cup of hot tea — Shara McCallum

Alas! fond child, How are thy thoughts beguil'd To hope for honey from a nest of wasps? Thou may'st as well Go seek for ease in hell, Or sprightly nectar from the mouths of asps. The world's a hive, From whence thou canst derive No good, but what thy soul's vexation brings: But case thou meet Some petty-petty sweet, Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings. — Francis Quarles

The Honey is sweet, but the Bee has a Sting. — Benjamin Franklin

Everything about her was sweet, pale like honey. You would not have been surprised to see a bee caught in the tangles of that yellow hair. — Katherine Mansfield

Like the bees, we are - only looking for sweet honey in the flowers, we are -
sensitive and at the same time carefully;
but we never destroy them. — Kristian Goldmund Aumann

I know her sweet pussy is fresh. There's no way that controlling bitch of a mother let a cock anywhere near her honey hive. No, that warm, sugary center she's got dripping between her legs is all for me. When — Alexa Riley

She was one of those languid women, made of dark honey, smooth and sweet, and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture, a toss of the hair, a single slow whiplash of the eyes - and all the while remain as still as the centre of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract themselves the yearnings and the souls of both men and women. — Patrick Suskind

Why is Melancholy like Honey? Because it is very sweet, and it is culled from Flowers. — Hope Mirrlees

In all things rest is sweet; there is sur feit even in honey, even in Aphrodite s lovely flowers. — Pindar

May the power of your love, Lord Christ, fiery and sweet as honey, so absorb our hearts as to withdraw them from all that is under heaven. Grant that we may be ready to die for love of your love, as you died for love of our love. — Francis Of Assisi

Well, look at it this way," Robin reasoned as I sat with him and Geoff at their kitchen table that night, half-plastered from the pitcher of margarita they'd blended up. Was I going to have a tequila hangover in the morning? Oh, honey, you bet your sweet ass I was. And how many fucks did I give?
Not a one.
"Even if you were overreacting to read what you read into this guy's offer - which I don't think you were, though I doubt he actually thought it through enough to intend it to be read that way - you still have to ask yourself: What's in it for you, hanging around some motel room waiting for a married man to make a booty call? What benefit would you get out of that situation, or out of prolonging your relationship with him? He might not have meant it to be an insulting offer, but it was absolutely a one hundred percent selfish offer. There was no upside for you whatsoever, unless the sex really was just that amazing. — Amelia C. Gormley

O days remember'd well! remember'd all!
The bitter sweet, the honey and the gall;
Those garden rambles in the silent night,
Those trees so shady, and that moon se bright,
That thickset alley by the arbor clos'd,
That woodbine seat where we at last repos'd;
And then the hopes that came and then were gone,
Quick as the clouds beneath the moon past on. — George Crabbe

I have the biggest sweet tooth, and just recently a doughnut shop in Portland called Pip's Original introduced a doughnut inspired by me called the 'Dirty Wu.' It is a cinnamon-sugar doughnut with sea salt, drizzled with honey and Nutella. — Reggie Lee

And he discovered, finally, the source of the honey-sweet sound.
The sound was music.
The sound was King Phillip playing his guitar and singing for his daughter, the Princess Pea, every night before she fell asleep.
Hidden in a hole in the wall of the princess's bedroom, the mouse listened with all his heart. The sound of the King's music made Despereaux's soul grow large and light inside of him.
Oh," he said, "it sounds like heaven. It smells like honey. — Kate DiCamillo

I sighed, sinking back, head filling with pleasant images; pictures Pietr floated to the surface. Kisses scorched along my face and neck. "Pietr ... "
There was a growl, and I felt fingers at the waistband of my jeans. The button opened and a hand traced along the top of my underpants.
"No," I said. The kissing resumed, harder. "Jessica." The word rumbled in someone's throat. Not Pietr's. To him, I was Jess.
"No," I insisted, trying to pry my eyes open. Something was wrong ... Not Pietr ... I pushed at the chest above me, my eyelids stinging as I willed them apart.
"Relax ... " a voice said, lips dragging along the cornerof my jaw, filling my head with honey, sticky and sweet ... — Shannon Delany

When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints
when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth
when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice
when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body
when I kiss you to make you smile. — Rabindranath Tagore

At last came the golden month of the wild folk-- honey-sweet May, when the birds come back, and the flowers come out, and the air is full of the sunrise scents and songs of the dawning year. — Samuel Scoville Jr.

He thought: Oh, I have fed on honey-dew. On wine and whiskey and champagne and the tender white meat of women and fine clothes and the respect of strong men and the fear of weak and the turn of a card and good horses and the crisp of greenbacks and the cool of mornings and all the elbow room that God or man could ask for. I have had high times. But the best times of all were afterward, just afterward, with the gun warm in my hand, the bite of smoke in my nose, the taste of death on my tongue, my heart high in my gullet, the danger past, and then the sweat, suddenly, and the nothingness, and the sweet clean feel of being born. — Glendon Swarthout

To a lesser extent (they like) the whites and reds, but blues, yellows and oranges are the main bee flowers. Although there are very good white bee flowers - white sweet clover is the best honey plant in the world. — Chip Taylor

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. — George R R Martin

That's just their way, honey. His father was the same way with Dee. Axel the same with me. Greg and Melissa. Maddox and Emmy. Asher and Chelcie. My sweet Dani with Cohen. Heck, even Davey had his moment with Sway. These men, it's just how they are. When they set their minds to something there is nothing and no one that will hold them back. And sweetheart, before you even let this thought take root in your mind, when they know, they know and they know in a way that sticks forever. — Harper Sloan

Pigs may like honey, but that doesn't stop it being sweet. — Germaine Greer

-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

He is rainwater and smoke and wishes. He is honey and wind and bitter as truth and sharp with hurting and endlessly, unbearably sweet. He is air, finally, endlessly — Amy Zhang

May the honey-sweet flute music that flows from Lord Mukunda's lotus mouth fill me with bliss. — Rupa Goswami

Her hair was well brushed that day and sheened darkly in contrast with the lusterless pallor of her neck and arms. She wore the striped tee shirt which in his lone fantasies he especially liked to peel off her twisting torso. The oilcloth was divided into blue and white squares. A smear of honey stained what remained of the butter in its cool crock.
'All right. And the third Real Thing?'
She considered him. A fiery droplet in the wick of her mouth considered him. A three-colored velvet violet, of which she had done an aquarelle on the eve, considered him from its fluted crystal. She said nothing. She licked her spread fingers, still looking at him.
Van, getting no answer, left the balcony. Softly her tower crumbled in the sweet silent sun. — Vladimir Nabokov

He had first come into the house with her whom he loved. And Daisy was dressed in her bridal gown and wore a white lace veil. Her skin was a beautiful colour of dark honey and her laughter was sweet. At night he had shut himself in the bright room to study alone. He had tried to cogitate and to discipline himself to study. But with Daisy near him there was a strong desire in him that would not go away with study. — Carson McCullers

He smelled like magic and sweat and the sea, but there was something else beneath all that, something sweet and warm like honey, and just for a moment I didn't feel afraid anymore. — Cassandra Rose Clarke

Ana, honey. The voice is soft and warm, full of love and sweet memories of times gone by. — E.L. James

Reading Myself
Like thousands I took just pride and more than just,
struck matches that brought my blood to a boil;
I memorized the tricks to set the river on fire
somehow never wrote something to go back to.
Can I suppose I am finished with wax flowers
and have earned my grass on the minor slopes of Parnassus ...
No honeycomb is built without a bee
adding circle to circle, cell to cell,
the wax and honey of a mausoleum
this round dome proves its maker is alive;
the corpse of the insect lives embalmed in honey,
prays that its perishable work live long
enough for the sweet tooth bear to desecrate
this open book..my open coffin — Robert Lowell

His skin smelled sweet, like milk and honey, and he'd shaved and trimmed his hair. Etta ran a hand over it.

"You're looking especially clean this morning," she said.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, "so I brought water up for a bath, and then more for you. The water should still be warm."

Pure joy exploded in her. "I could kiss you for that!"

"By all means," he said coyly. "Don't hold yourself back on my account. — Alexandra Bracken

O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells. — Helen Hunt Jackson

To regret the exchange of earthly pleasures for the joys of Heaven, is as if the grovelling caterpillar should lament that it must one day quit the nibbled leaf to soar aloft and flutter through the air, roving at will from flower to flower, sipping sweet honey from their cups, or basking in their sunny petals. If these little creatures knew how great a change awaited them, no doubt they would regret it; but would not all such sorrow be misplaced? — Anne Bronte

In fact when Sweet Honey was ten years old it was too big for me to run, and I knew it, but I ran it for another thirteen years because I couldn't convince other people to really do it. And this year, I'm not running it. — Bernice Johnson Reagon

A smile bloomed again in his eyes. "I love that you let me bring out that softness in you. You've always been such a tough little trooper, but under that snappy, tough act you put on, you're butter-soft. Sweet as honey. And I can get there! Make that softness come up. I'm so ... honored by it — Ramona Wray

Okay, here it goes--bread, so you'll never go hungry; a broom, so you can sweep away evil; a candle, so you'll always have light; honey, so life will always be sweet; a coin, to bring good fortune for the year; olive oil, for health, life, and believe it or not, to keep your husband, or in this case, your boyfriend faithful; a plant, so you'll always have life; rice, to ensure your fertility, but that's taken care of, eh? Salt represents life's tears. I recommend you place a pinch of salt on the threshold of every door and window for good luck and according to my grandmother Chetta it also mends old wounds. Oh and... ah, yes, wine, sparkling non-alcoholic wine, so you never go thirsty and always have joy and last, but not least wood, so your home will always have harmony, stability, and peace. — Aimee Pitta

Nothing but Money, Is sweeter than Honey. — Benjamin Franklin

But this time as soon as he moved she began to fade. He stopped at once, not breathing again, motionless, willing his eyes to see that she had stopped too. But she had not stopped. She was fading, going. "Wait," he said, talking as sweet as he had ever heard his voice speak to a woman: "Den lemme go wid you, honey." But she was going. — William Faulkner

But what do I love when I love you? Not the beauty of any body or the rhythm of time in its movement; not the radiance of light, so dear to our eyes; not the sweet melodies in the world of manifold sounds; not the perfume of flowers, ointments and spices; not manna and not honey; not the limbs so delightful to the body's embrace: it is none of these things that I love when I love my God. And yet when I love my God I do indeed love a light and a sound and a perfume and a food and an embrace - a light and sound and perfume and food and embrace in my inward self. There my soul is flooded with a radiance which no space can contain; there a music sounds which time never bears away; there I smell a perfume which no wind disperses; there I taste a food that no surfeit embitters; there is an embrace which no satiety severs. It is this that I love when I love my God. (Confessions 10.6.8) — Timothy J. Keller

He could feel the earth beneath, all the deep stone of it, cool and hard near the surface of the earth, but hotter and softer as you went deep, until it flowed like honey, a vast sweet fiery ocean of molten rock a thousand times more voluminous and ten thousand times heavier than the sea. It felt to him as if it were his own blood, and his heart pumped it. — Orson Scott Card

After more of his sweet torture, I called, "Tate, honey?"
"Yeah, baby," he answered.
"Am I under your skin?" I whispered as my hips moved with his hand.
He replied instantly, "Oh yeah." His thumb tweaked my clit harder, my hips jerked and a low mew slid out of my throat as the fingers of one of my hands slid into his hair and the other arm held on tighter. "Fuck yeah," he growled and his lips left my ear, his mouth found mine and he kissed me, wet and deep. — Kristen Ashley

The sweet, lovely voices of the children were like honey, like grape wine, intoxicating him, entrancing him, so he couldn't tell heaven from earth. — Lin Zhe

I am a wheel. As I rise, Sweetheart, I carry you along with me, a heady, dizzying spin toward the sweet oceans of eternity. On wings of flames we sink into the sea of love. May be burn forever like bees in honey. Who does not wish for that delirium to last forever? — Rikki Ducornet

When all is said and done, how do we know but that our own unreason may be better than another's truth? for it has been warmed on our hearths and in our souls, and is ready for the wild bees of truth to hive in it, and make their sweet honey. — William Butler Yeats

Curiosity killed the cat, but not before teaching her that honey bees are not sweet, tweeting birds are slow to react, mice can serve as both toys and food, big dogs like to snuggle, falling isn't flying, cream drips from lazy cows, water should be avoided at all costs, baths don't require getting wet, kindness and cruelty often fall from the same hand, and engines remain comfortably warm long after the motor dies. — Richelle E. Goodrich

There is a twofold knowledge of good of which God has made the mind of man capable. The first, that which is merely notional . . . and the other is, that which consists in the sense of the heart, as when the heart is sensible of pleasure and delight in the presence of the idea of it. In the former is exercised merely . . . the understanding, in distinction from the . . . disposition of the soul. Thus there is a difference between having an opinion that God is holy and gracious, and having a sense of the loveliness and beauty of that holiness and grace. There is a difference between having a rational judgment that honey is sweet and having a sense of its sweetness. A man may have the former that knows not how honey tastes; but a man cannot have the latter unless he has an idea of the taste of honey in his mind. — Timothy Keller

Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an hour
or two.
This is your fairy.
It ain't perfect and it ain't honey sweet with roses on the bed.
It's real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love.
Don't throw it away searching for someone else's love. Don't be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go.
Be someone's someone for someone.
Be that someone for him. — Charlotte Eriksson

Or it may be that the honey in the cells
has foamed to froth, has risen above
walls that could no longer contain
that sweet - So the hand that tried
to stay the overflow withdrew, gold-
sheathed. May such abundance visit
your heart today: not rue, not pity. — Luisa A. Igloria

Bread of flour is good; but there is bread, sweet as honey, if we would eat it, in a good book. — John Ruskin

Wehehehehell, if it isn't Ollie-Ollie-oxidant-free ... "
You can take ... all the tea in China ... put it in a big brown ... bag for me.
He's as sweet as tupelo honey; he's an angel of the first degree.
Men with insight ... men in granite ... knights in armor bent on ... chivalry.
He's as sweet as ... tupelo honey; just like honey, baby ... from the bee."
=> For those who read and liked "When Irish eyes are sparkling"
Can i have a musician here? — Tom Collins

You can be as sharp-tongued as a viper, but you can also be as sweet as wild clover honey. — Raymond E. Feist

Man, that kind of little honeybee just buzzes from flower to flower."
"Maybe, but honey is sweet, you know? — Colleen Coover

Love is as bitter as the dregs of sin, As sweet as clover-honey in its cell; Love is the password whereby souls get in To Heaven
the gate that leads, sometimes, to Hell. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Deadly poisons are concealed under sweet honey. — Ovid

The scampi tasted sweet like a lobster fed only on honey and it cut into the deep undertone of flavor deposited on the taste buds by the truffles. — Pat Conroy

cumin baked chicken WITH SWEET HONEY-LIME SAUCE — Sunny Anderson

the most clear evidence and assurance of the truth and goodness in these holy things of Christ and the new creature arises out of themselves, as light follows from the body of the Sun, without the contusion or compulsion of an harsh arguments. And by a holy sympathy a regenerate heart entertains with infinite delight these precious and holy truths. Arguments and syllogisms make a great noise in the world. I think they are like that appearance in Horeb to the prophet Elijah when the great and strong wind broke the mountains and broke in pieces all the rocks. But it is said, the Lord was not found in the wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but He was in the still, small voice. Lux spiritus santi est lenis luxs, persundens sementibus, the Holy Spirit does gently hover over the soul and brood upon it. Heavenly doctrine falls down upon the spirits of men, not like a mighty violent rain, but like a shower of oil, like a sweet honey-dew. — William Tyndale

Sweet and savory, it was the honey of our existence, DNA with the message: This is who I am. — Atom Yang

I spit
honey out of my mouth:
nothing is second-best
after the sweet of Eros. — Hilda Doolittle

Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
These round each bush in sweet disorder run
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun. — John Clare

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'm not allowed to talk to your teammates?"
"Talk all you want. But flirting ain't allowed, honey."
Seriously? "I'll flirt with whomever I want," I shoot back.
"Aw, you really think that?" He smiles. "That's so sweet. — Sarina Bowen

I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I've never had one that said both hello and good-bye. — Ann Aguirre

Oh, my fellow men, do not defile your bodies with sinful foods. We have corn, we have apples bending down the branches with their weight, and grapes swelling on the vines. There are sweet-flavored herbs, and vegetables which can be cooked and softened over the fire, nor are you denied milk or thyme-scented honey. The earth affords a lavish supply of riches, of innocent foods, and offers you banquets that involve no bloodshed or slaughter; only beasts satisfy their hunger with flesh, and not even all of those, because horses, cattle, and sheep live on grass. — Pythagoras

I dreamt
marvellous error!
that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures. — Antonio Machado

When you don't use sugar in your diet, all of the sudden fruits are really sweet. Honey is really sweet. Your taste buds change. I'm not psycho never have anything sweet, because that takes too much energy. The stress on your body just isn't worth it. — Laird Hamilton

Who bides his time tastes the sweet Of honey in the saltiest tear; And though he fares with slowest feet Joy runs to meet him drawing near. — James Whitcomb Riley

Oh I bet you're sweet as under all that posh.'
And he looked at her in a way that left her in no doubt that he wasn't talking about the way she might move on the dance floor. If he mentioned honey pots she was going to pour her vodka shot over him. 'You'll never know, — Amy Andrews

Sometimes that's all you can do, I think. Hold hands. Because life gets so scary sometimes, so bleak, so cold, that you are beyond being able to be comforted by mere words.


'Men are for amusement only. They are treats. Like candy. Like ice cream on an Alabama afternoon. A dessert. They are not the main course. As soon as you have a man in your life who becomes the main course, that is the time, my sweet, when you should go on a diet. Right that second. Men are for dessert only.' Envision: honey.
'Yum, yum,' I told her.
'They are yummy.' She winked at me. 'But never take them seriously. A bite here and there is puh-lenty. All three of my husbands died, bless their pea-brained souls, but I never thought of them as the chicken and potatoes. They were always the flamin' cherries jubilee at the end of dinner.' She stared off into space. 'And there was many a time, darlin', that I wanted to set them on fire. — Cathy Lamb

Thus there is a difference between having an opinion that God is holy and gracious, and having a sense of the loveliness and beauty of that holiness and grace. There is a difference between having a rational judgment that honey is sweet, and having a sense of its sweetness. A man may have the former, that knows not how honey tastes; but a man can't have the latter unless he has an idea of the taste of honey in his mind. So there is a difference between believing that a person is beautiful, and having a sense of his beauty. — Jonathan Edwards

Experience is bitter. But it fruits is sweet like honey. — Lailah Gifty Akita

Logan was her entire world and she was his. She could taste the raw honey and bits of bees still on his tongue. She enjoyed the sweet flavor and kept her promise of kissing him even though he was a bug-eating bear. — Jess Hayek

The Etymologiae says that bees are virtuous because they are much loved by all, and sought after with great longing by everyone, because their honey tastes as sweet in the mouths of paupers as in the mouths of kings. Do you think that's logical? That a creature can be virtuous just because it is loved and sought after, that the act of being loved, of being sought after, even if it is passive, is equal to an act of martyrdom or great piety, which is active? That it can confer grace to a whole species? — Catherynne M Valente