Wine Cups Quotes & Sayings

But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful "up back" - almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour - the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrises. Lovely ferns of ice all over the windows of the Blue Castle. Moonlight on birches in a silver thaw. Ragged shadows on windy evenings - torn, twisted, fantastic shadows. Great silences, austere and searching. Jewelled, barbaric hills. The sun suddenly breaking through grey clouds over long, white Mistawis. Ice-grey twilights, broken by snow-squalls, when their cosy living-room, with its goblins of firelight and inscrutable cats, seemed cosier than ever. Every hour brought a new revalation and wonder. — L.M. Montgomery

This universe an old enchantment guards; Its objects are carved cups of World-Delight Whose charmed wine is some deep soul's rapture-drink: The All-Wonderful has packed heaven with his dreams, He has made blank ancient Space his marvel-house; He spilled his spirit into Matter's signs: His fires of grandeur burn in the great sun, He glides through heaven shimmering in the moon; He is beauty carolling in the fields of sound; He chants the stanzas of the odes of Wind; He is silence watching in the stars at night; He wakes at dawn and calls from every bough, Lies stunned in the stone and dreams in flower and tree. — Sri Aurobindo

Sir, I did not count your glasses of wine, why should you number up my cups of tea? — Samuel Johnson

The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups but chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. When they are old they turn themselves inside out, explode slowly, the petals thrown like shards. — Margaret Atwood

Truth itself is something you live, not something you think. — Martha Beck

ROASTED BEET AND QUINOA SALAD When beets are bad, they are really fucking gross. But roasted, these mother fuckers get sweet and delicious. Trust. MAKES ENOUGH FOR 4 AS A SIDE DRESSING 1 shallot or small onion, diced (about 2 tablespoons) 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard 3 tablespoons white wine, balsamic, or champagne vinegar ¼ cup olive oil SALAD 3 medium beets, peeled and chopped into small chunks (about 1½ cups) 1 teaspoon of whatever vinegar you used for the dressing 2 teaspoons olive oil Salt and ground pepper 2 cups water 1 cup quinoa, rinsed 1 cup kale, stems removed, sliced into thin strips — Thug Kitchen

Creatures are cups. The sciences and the arts and all branches of knowledge are inscriptions around the outside of the cups. When a cup shatters, the writing can no longer be read. The wine's the thing! The wine that's held in the mold of these physical cups. Drink the wine and know what lasts and what to love. The man who truly asks must be sure of two things: One, that he's mistaken in what he's doing or thinking now. And two, that there is a wisdom he doesn't know yet. Asking is half of knowing. — Rumi

Fill high the cup with Samian wine! — Lord Byron

Several minutes later, when I passed among the guests to fill their empty cups with wine, I found him standing at my shoulder. "You'll wound my pride," he warned me softly, "ignoring me so." I flicked him a look that was only half-impatient. "I must not speak with you, by my uncle's own instruction." "And when have you obeyed instructions?" He held out his own cup to be filled, his mouth curved in amusement. "Besides, your uncle is engaged at present, with a most serious gentleman. If he should look this way, I've only to duck my head." "You are impossible, my lord." "Ay. And your good humor is lacking, madam. What is it that has so offended you? — Susanna Kearsley

As one of the first employees at a small cellular phone start-up called Nextel, I gained firsthand experience in how a business grows from an idea to a company that, at its peak, employed many thousands. — Jack Markell

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. — William Shakespeare

The writer is driven by his conviction that some truths aren't arrived at so easily, that life is still full of mystery, that it might be better for you, Dear Reader, if you went back to the Living section of your newspaper because this is the dying section and you don't really want to be here. — Don DeLillo

THE ROBIN
O Robin, sing! for the secret of eternity is in song.
I wish I were as you, free from prisons and chains.
I wish I were as you; a soul flying over the valleys,
Sipping the light as wine is sipped from ethereal cups.
I wish I were asyou, innocent, contented and happy
Ignoring the future and forgetting the past.
I wish I were as you in beauty, grace and elegance
With the wind spreading my wings for adornment by the dew.
I wish I were as you in beauty, a thought floating above the land
Pouring out my songs between the forest and the sky.
O Robin, sing! and disperse my anxiety.
I listen to the voice within your voice
that whispers in my inner ear; — Kahlil Gibran

That is a zombie ... Holy fucking shit. That's a mother fucking zombie and this shit is real. — Diana Rowland

On a moonlit night, after a snowfall, or under cherry blossoms, it adds to our pleasure if, while chatting at our ease, we bring forth the wine cups. — Yoshida Kenko

The bitter cups of earth will give a relish to the new wine that sparkles in the golden bowls of heaven. Our — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Risotto with Seafood 2 bay leaves 1 carrot, chopped 2 small onions: 1 chopped, 1 minced 3 (1-pound) lobsters 1/3 cup olive oil 3 tablespoons tomato paste 2 cups Arborio rice 1½ cups white wine (dry) 2 tablespoons butter 2 pounds medium shrimp, peeled 1 pound scallops Fill pot with water sufficient to cover 3 lobsters. Add bay leaves, carrot, chopped onion. Bring to a boil, add lobsters, and cook 10 minutes. Reserve water the lobsters were cooked in. Cool lobsters and remove meat. Cook minced onion in olive oil until translucent; add tomato paste until blended. Then add rice. Slowly add white wine and an equal amount of lobster water. Continue stirring and adding liquid as rice cooks, 20 minutes or so. Melt butter in a separate pan. Add shrimp; cook until pink. Remove shrimp and add scallops; sear until golden. Add shrimp and lobster to the risotto pan. Fold in. Season to taste. — Christina Baker Kline

The gate clicks behind me. The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups by chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. — Margaret Atwood

Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it. — Edward Furlong

Sometimes I wondered if it even mattered whether our communion cups were filled with consecrated wine or draft beer, as long as we bent over them long enough to recognize each other as kin. — Barbara Brown Taylor

If outrageous imagination is the wine of madness, then come fill my cup. — Sheldon B. Kopp

The wise man never loses his temper. — Marcus Tullius Cicero

Ecstasy and vulnerability belonged in the same dish. The fear the cup would be snatched away was what gave the wine its savor. — Tanith Lee

I shoot reality-based movies, and in actual locations, shooting them with a star is next to impossible. — Anurag Kashyap

Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.
And to the dead thing he made confession. Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain. — Oscar Wilde

Joy comes and goes, hope ebbs and flows
Like the wave;
Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of men.
Love tends life a little grace,
A few sad smiles; and then,
Both are laid in one cold place,
In the grave. — Matthew Arnold

Even
The bed of love, that in the imagination
Had seemed to be the giver of all peace,
Is no more than a wine-cup in the tasting,
And as soon finished. — William Butler Yeats

I had a dream that Mark Wahlberg and his wife were our neighbors and we had dance parties in our living room and drank wine from Solo cups. I remember being confused as to why they lived in a regular neighborhood, or why it didn't seem to make anyone awkward that I had Marky's Calvin ads up in the living room. — Crystal Woods

And now it goes as it goes and where it ends is Fate. And neither by singeing flesh nor tipping cups of wine nor shedding burning tears can you enchant away the rigid Fury. — Aeschylus

The wind cannot shake a mountain. Neither praise nor blame moves the wise man. — Gautama Buddha

Conservatism is the antidote to tyranny. It's the only one. It's based on thousands of years of human experience. There is nothing narrow about the conservative philosophy. It's a liberating philosophy. It is a magnificent philosophy. It is a philosophy for the ages, for all times. — Mark R. Levin

The Court is perhaps one of the last citadels of jealously preserved individualism. For the most part, we function as nine, small independent law firms. — Colin Powell

Pour out the wine without restraint or stay,
Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful,
Pour out to all that wull. — Edmund Spenser

A full cup of wine at the right time is worth more than all the kingdoms of this earth! — Gustav Mahler

Who I am doesn't depend on others. — C.M. Rayne

Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o'erflow with wine ... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights. — Thomas Campion

There is nothing I want but your presence.
In friendship, time dissolves.
Life is a cup. This connection
is pure wine. What else are cups for?
I used to have twenty thousand
different desires. — Rumi

For his part, the Count had opted for the life of the purposefully unrushed. Not only was he disinclined to race toward some appointed hour - disdaining even to wear a watch - he took the greatest satisfaction when assuring a friend that a worldly matter could wait in favor of a leisurely lunch or stroll along the embankment. After all, did not wine improve with age? Was it not the passage of years that gave a piece of furniture its delightful patina? When all was said and done, the endeavors that most modern men saw as urgent (such as appointments with bankers and the catching of trains), probably could have waited, while those they deemed frivolous (such as cups of tea and friendly chats) had deserved their immediate attention. — Amor Towles