You Are Like Wine Quotes & Sayings

Madness is like wine: small amounts are inspiring, but too much can make you ill. — Neel Burton

And, whoa!" He turned to Mr.D. "Your the wine dude? No way!"
Mr.D turned hi eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. "The wine dude?"
"Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I've got your figurine!"
"My figurine."
"In my game, Mythomagic. And holofoil card, too! And even though you've only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks your the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!"
"Ah." Mr.D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. "Well, that's ... gratifying. — Rick Riordan

The morning interviews were always the hardest, hung-over, trying to get the beer down. No, I have no idea why I am a writer. No, my writing has no particular meaning that I know of. Celine? Oh sure. Why not? Do I like women? Well, I'd rather fuck most of them than live with them. What do I think is important? Good wine, good plumbing and to be able to sleep late in the mornings. Are you really disturbing me? Of course you are. Do you expect me to start lying at the age of 58? Buy me a drink. — Charles Bukowski

Yes You Are!

Like the Blossoming rose,
Like the Rays of hope.

Like a deer in the forest,
Like an athlete full of zest.

Like a lamp in temple,
Like the life feeling ample.


Like the feel of the dawn,
Like the grace of the swan.

Like the melody of sitar,
Like the rage of guitar.

Like a group of angels in the sky,
Like the pot that makes you high.

Like the peacock's dance,
Like she is the romance.


Like the silent talk,
Like the wine from Medoc.

Like the colors of life,
Like the music from the fife.

Like the calmness of the cold wind
Like the beauty of the hind. — Ameya Agrawal

Some martial arts are very popular, real crowd pleasers, because they look good, have smooth techniques. but beware.They are like a wine that has been watered. A diluted wine is not a real wine, nto a good wine, hardly the genuine article. Some martial arts don't look so good, but you know that they have a kick, a tang, a genuine taste. They are like olives. The taste may be strong and bittersweet. The flavour lasts. You cultivate a taste for them. NO one ever developed a taste for diluted wine — Bruce Lee

Sometimes, going to see one opera is hard because you don't know the genre. Good opera is like good wine. There are so many varieties, and it helps to inform you about what you like when you see a lot. — Susanna Phillips

William asked Diana if she'd seen the portrait of the Queen in yesterday's papers. "Her hands looked like she'd been in the garden all day; they were all big and dirty," he laughed. Diana giggled instinctively, then stopped herself. "William, please, don't say that."
"Sorry, Mummy, but it's true: Granny did look really funny."
Granny. How odd it sounded.
"Can I have some wine, Mummy?"
"No, William! Whatever are you thinking?"
"But Mummy, I drink it all the time."
"Erm, no, you don't actually, and, well, you can't have any."
"Yes, I can," he replied with a mischievous but determined grin.
And he did. A small but interesting piece of power play to observe. William knew what he wanted, and Diana was a soft touch with her boys.
- Piers Morgan — Larry King

Scientists want to search for alien signals because that's what gets them publicity. They are like Jesus Christ."
"Jesus Christ?" Nambodri asked, with a faintly derogatory chuckle.
"Yes. They are exactly like Jesus Christ. You know that he turned water into wine."
"I've heard that story."
"From the point of view of pure chemistry, it is more miraculous to make wine into water than water into wine. But he did not do that. Because if he had gone to someone's house and converted their wine into water, they would have crucified him much earlier. He knew, Jana. He knew making water into wine was a more popular thing to do. — Manu Joseph

Dedicated ereaders are as sharp as steak knives in doing what they're supposed to do, which is let you read books. The iPad is more like a Swiss Army knife
it can cut the steak and uncork a wine bottle, and there's even a toothpick to use when you're done eating! It's got it all. — Jason Merkoski

So are you doing anything for your anniversary? I mean other than sitting around your backyard with a bottle of wine moping over lost love."

Since those were pretty much my plans, I said,"No. I'm going to hire a masseur, like you suggested."
After that, there was no turning back. — Marshall Thornton

Lesson to you Ann, is that a man, however much he lives under the illusion, is never in control. A woman holds the whip that slaps the horse's rump, my dear. And here is another lesson for you to chew on. Men are like barrels of wine in Sir Hammersmith's basement. Strong, sturdy and inviting on the outside, whereas on the inside completely empty. — Anya Wylde

If ever we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed; you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed. I wonder what kind of finger and thumb God has been using to squeeze you, and you have been like a marble and escaped? — Oswald Chambers

Do you think they're doing it?' said Alexon. Charls coughed on his wine. 'I beg your pardon?' 'The King and Prince Laurent. Do you think they're doing it?' 'Well, it's not for me to say.' Charls avoided looked at the Prince. 'I think they are,' volunteered Guilliame. 'Charls met the Prince of Vere once. He said he was so beautiful that if he were a pet he'd spark a bidding war the likes of which no one had ever seen.' 'I meant, in an honourable way,' Charls said, quickly. 'And everyone in Akielos speaks of the virility of Damianos,' continued Guilliame. 'I don't think it should follow that - ' Charls began. 'My cousin told me,' said Alexon, proudly, 'he met a man who had once been a famous gladiator from Isthima. He lasted only minutes in the arena with Damianos. But afterwards Damianos had him in his chambers for six hours.' 'You see? How could a man like that resist a beauty like the Prince?' Guilliame sat back triumphantly. 'Seven hours,' said Lamen, frowning slightly. 'Here — C.S. Pacat

You're not like other Wasps."
"Aren't I?" Aagen smiled, but it was a painful smile. "No doubt you've killed my kinsmen by the score."
"A few," Salma allowed.
"Well, next time you shed my kinden's blood, think on this: we are but men, no less nor more than other men, and we strive and feel joy and fail as men have always done. We live in the darkness that is the birthright of us all, that of hurt and ignorance, only sometimes ... sometimes there comes the sun." He let the bowl fall from his fingers to the floor, watching it spin and settle, unbroken. — Adrian Tchaikovsky

Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk. — Susanna Clarke

The world has changed - through technology, through wine-making techniques, the quality of wine is greater than it's ever been. Whereas ten, fifteen years ago it was very easy to find lots of bad wine, it's kind of hard now. The technology, the science - it's like, are you kidding? We're in the golden years of wine! — Gary Vaynerchuk

M.F.K. Fisher says it well: There is a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk. It's like religion. If you have a glass of water and a crust of bread with someone and you really share it, it is much more than just bread and water. I really believe that. Breaking bread is a simile for sharing bread ... you cannot swallow if you are angry or hateful. You choke a bit ... it's all very betraying, how we eat. — Simon Carey Holt

Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with. — Jill Shalvis

I could hear and indescribable seething roar which wasn't which wasn't in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds. I realised that I had died and reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly eas, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it.
I realised it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water. I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein, like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled.
I thought I was going to die the very next moment. — Jack Kerouac

I'm obviously a typeomaniac, which is an incurable if not mortal disease. I can't explain it. I just love, I just like looking at type. I just get a total kick out of it: they are my friends. Other people look at bottles of wine or whatever, or, you know, girls' bottoms. I get kicks out of looking at type. It's a little worrying, I admit, but it's a very nerdish thing to do. — Erik Spiekermann

You're wearing that dress simply because you like it. You don't dress to make men look at you - you hate men. But, your body is ridiculous and it happens anyway. You walk and your hips sway from side to side, but you don't walk that way to get attention, it's just the way you move - and everyone looks. Everyone. And when you listen to people speak, you unconsciously bite your lower lip and then let your teeth slide across it. And when you order wine at dinner, you play with the stem of your wine glass. You run your fingers up and down. You are sex and you don't even know it. Which makes you even sexier. So, when I think dirty thoughts, forgive me. I'm just under your spell like everyone else. — Tarryn Fisher

The Skeleton: We have wisdom, if you like - a dull and dusty wisdom, and I would give it all for a good draught of Chian wine.4 Perchance 'tis something to know that bodies are made of dust and water, the last of which is evaporable, and the former capable of dissolvement. For this is all our knowledge, in spite of much that is known and spoken of hierophant and philosopher. However, unlike the lore and wisdom of these, it may be contained without discommodation by one skull. — Clark Ashton Smith

There is, if you don't mind my saying so, something sinister about men who avoid wine, games, the company of charming women, and good dinner-table conversation. People like that are either seriously ill or they secretly disdain their fellow men. — Mikhail Bulgakov

Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr. Darnay?"
"I am frightfully confused regarding time and place, but I am so far mended as to feel that."
"It must be an immense satisfaction!"
He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a large one.
"As to me, the greatest desire I have is to forget that I belong to it. It has no good in it for me
except wine like this
nor I for it. So we are not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are not much alike in any particular, you and I. — Charles Dickens

And so you, like the others, would play your brains against mine. You would help these men to hunt me and frustrate me in my designs! You know now, and they know in part already, and will know in full before long, what it is to cross my path. They should have kept their energies for use closer to home. Whilst they played wits against me - against me who commanded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought for them, hundreds of years before they were born - I was countermining them. And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for awhile; and shall later on be my companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn; for not one of them but shall minister to your needs. You have aided in thwarting me; now you shall come to my call. — Bram Stoker

To those of us who believe that all of life is sacred every crumb of bread and sip of wine is a Eucharist, a remembrance, a call to awareness of holiness right where we are.
I want all of the holiness of the Eucharist to spill out beyond church walls, out of the hands of priests and into the regular streets and sidewalks, into the hands of regular, grubby people like you and me, onto our tables, in our kitchens and dining rooms and backyards. — Shauna Niequist

Do you prefer fermented or distilled?
This is a trick question. It doesn't matter how much you like wine, because wine is social and writing is anti-social. This is a writer's interview, writing is a lonely job, and spirits are the lubricant of the lonely. You might say all drinking is supposed to be social but there's a difference, at one in the morning while you're hunched over your computer, between opening up a bottle of Chardonnay and pouring two-fingers of bourbon into a tumbler. A gin martini, of course, splits the difference nicely, keeping you from feeling like a deadline reporter with a smoldering cigarette while still reminding you that your job is to be interesting for a living. Anyone who suggests you can make a martini with vodka, by the way, is probably in need of electroconvulsive therapy. — Stuart Connelly

You can't really prepare yourself for being greeted by a dozen Klingons drinking blood wine. So, it can be a bit off-putting coming in from the outside. But it's great fun and there are no fans like Star Trek fans. — Jeri Ryan

She took a shaky swallow of wine. "She didn't know me. When we were face-to-face again, and she looked right at me. She didn't know me."
"Did that hurt you?"
"No. I don't know. I couldn't think. I just know that for a minute I was nothing again. Like they - she - took everything from me. Roarke, my badge, my life, myself. For a minute it was just gone because she was there. I can't be nothing again."
"You could never be nothing." Roarke spoke in a voice of barely controlled rage. "You're what you made yourself against the impossible. Even when you were helpless they couldn't destroy what you are. You're a miracle. You're my miracle, and you'll never be anything else. — J.D. Robb

When you uncork a bottle of mature fine wine, what you are drinking is the product of a particular culture and tradition, a particular soil, a particular climate, the weather in that year, and the love and labour of people who may since have died. The wine is still changing, still evolving, so much so that no two bottles can ever be quite the same. By now, the stuff has become incredibly complex, almost ethereal. Without seeking to blaspheme, it has become something like the smell and taste of God. Do you drink it alone? Never. The better a bottle, the more you want to share it with others ... and that is the other incredible thing about wine, that it brings people together, makes them share with one another, laugh with one another, fall in love with one another and with the world around them. — Neel Burton

Like a bottle of wine or a promising college quarterback turning pro, C.E.O.'s are similar to what economists call experience goods: you commit to a price long before you know if they're worth it. — Adam Davidson

'THIS ROOM HAS MYSTERY LIKE A TRANCE' This room has mystery like a trance Of wine ; forget-me-nots of you Are chair and couch, the books your Fingers touched. And now that you Are absent here the silence scrapes A secret rust from everything; While sudden wreaths of sorrow's Dust uncover emptiness like halls To stumble through, and terror falls — Kenneth Patchen

It's not enough to open the window
To see the fields and the river.
It's also not enough to not be blind
To see the trees and the flowers.
It's also necessary to not have any philosophy at all.
With philosophy there are no trees, there are only ideas.
There's only each of us, like a wine-cellar.
There's only a shut window and the world outside it;
And a dream of what you could see if you opened the window,
Which is never what you see when you open the window. — Alberto Caeiro

Stories are like wine; they need time. So take the time. This isn't a hot dog eating contest. You're not being judged on how much you write but rather, how well you do it. Sure, there's a balance - you have to be generative, have to be swimming forward lest you sink like a stone and find remora fish mating inside your rectum. But generation and creativity should not come at the cost of quality. Give your stories and your career the time and patience it needs. — Chuck Wendig

Miranda!"
"What?" She batted him with her pillow.
"Hoyden! Are you drunk?"
"I don't think so. I'm not sure. They never gave us wine at Yardley. I feel happy."
"Happy?" He grabbed a corner of the pillow as she whacked him again with it. "Stop it!"
"You're too serious, Winterley!" She reached for another pillow. "I will beat you until you smile!"
He ducked out of his chair with a rakish grin as she swung at him, then tackled her flat on the soft bed, both of them laughing.
"You are ... impossible," he chided with a gentle sigh as he braced his elbows on either side of her head. He traced her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.
"Difficult, but not impossible." She wrapped her arms around him, relishing the weight of him atop her, the smoothness of his bare chest against her bodice. "It all depends on who's trying."
"That sounded distinctly like an invitation," he murmured. — Gaelen Foley

Death is, perhaps, the only certainty in life that still manages to catch us off guard. And while browsing a headstone catalog (yes, they really have such a thing) over a glass of wine might not sound like a recipe for the perfect date night, taking time to address the small things (Does your wife know what all the keys on your key ring are for? Does your husband know how to make a pot of coffee, or even where you keep the filters?) and even the not-so-small things can make a big difference in how you will cope, should you one day find yourself in my shoes - dressed in black and — Anonymous

What?" he asked.
"I don't know. Just thinking about flowers. And impressing people. I mean, how strange is it that we bring plant sex organs to people we're attracted to? What's up with that? It's a weird sign of affection."
His dark eyes lit up, like he'd just discovered something surprising and delightful. "Is it any weirder than giving chocolate, which is supposed to be an aphrodisiac? Or what about wine? A 'romantic' drink that really just succeeds in lowering the other person's inhibitions."
"Hmmm, It's like people are trying to be both subtle and blatant at the same time. Like, they won't actually go up and say, 'Hey, I like you, lets get together.' Instead, they're like, 'Here, have some plant genitalia and aphrodisiacs. — Richelle Mead

Our lives are like these things I make. Turn 'em, build 'em, bake 'em in fire. That's what you've been, son. Baked and fired. But a pot don't have the right to choose whether he be for water, wine, or just left empty. You have, son. You have. — Joanne Harris

I kissed you," Finlay said roughly. "for the very simple reason that you are irresistible."
"I think that is what is known as serendipity," Isabella replied, "for it's the very same reason I kissed you back."
"Serendipity," Finlay said, sliding his arm around her waist. "I've always wondered what it tasted like."
"Strawberries, and lavender, and vintage wine, I believe is how you described it."
"No," he said decidedly. "It tastes of nothing other than essence of you. The most intoxicating and delicious taste imaginable. — Marguerite Kaye

I looked at him, tipping down the coarse wine like a man who expects to put up with worse. I felt I was looking my last at the lad I still remembered. I was right. When I saw him again, it was five years later, and not in Athens. He was tanned like the thong of a javelin, and as tough as the shaft, a soldier who looked to have been cradled in a shield; but the oddest change, I think, was to see in one always so mindful of convention that careless outlandishness you find in irregular troops of great renown; men who seem to say, "Take it or leave it, you who never went where we have been. We are the only judges of one another. — Mary Renault

His lips thinned in frustration like I should already know the answer. He inched closer until his knee touched mine, his eyes, curious and intense, boring into me. "Because you move like fire rushing across a floor," he said his voice hushed, velvety smooth, "like flames licking up a wall." The rest of the world crumbled away as he lifted my chin. "Your energy is liquid and hot. Even from a distance you burn, you scorch anyone who gets too close. You are wine on my tongue and honey in my veins, and I cannot get enough of you." He leaned forward and whispered into my ear. His warm breath sent shivers cascading over my body. "You intoxicate me, Lorelei McAlister. You will be my downfall. — Darynda Jones

You sell your own wares,then.Are you clever at it?"
Shelby lifted her wine. "I like to think so." Tossing her hangs out of her eyes, she turned to Alan. "Would you say I was clever at it, Senator?"
"Amazingly so," he returned. "For someone without any sense of organization, you manage to work at your craft,run a shop,and live precisely as you choose."
"I like odd compliments," Shelby decided after a moment. "Alan's accustomed to a more structured routine. He'd never run out of gas in the freeway."
"I like odd insults," Alan murmured into his wine.
"Makes a good balance. — Nora Roberts

Drunk, if you like; so much the worse for those who fear wine, for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts; and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time, - — Alexandre Dumas

Why Aren't We Screaming Drunks?

by Hafiz (Daniel Ladinsky)
(1945? - ) Timeline


Original Language
English
Muslim / Sufi


Contemporary


The sun once glimpsed God's true nature
And has never been the same.

Thus that radiant sphere
Constantly pours its energy
Upon this earth
As does He from behind
The veil.

With a wonderful God like that
Why isn't everyone a screaming drunk?

Hafiz's guess is this:

Any thought that you are better or less
Than another man

Quickly
Breaks the wine
Glass. — Daniel Ladinsky

If the October days were a cordial like the sub-acids of fruit, these are a tonic like the wine of iron. Drink deep or be careful how you taste this December vintage. The first sip may chill, but a full draught warms and invigorates. — John Burroughs

Decade
When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread,
Smooth and pleasant.
I hardly taste you at all for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished. — Amy Lowell

You are tired of being alone. You told me."
"You don't know," he said in a low, almost hostile voice. He shook his head. "I don't even know what
I'm doing with you. You're not like anyone else who's in my life - " He stopped abruptly. "Did you ever
drink too much wine,Alice ?" He held up the glass in his hand and waggled it idly, making the ruby
contents swirl.
"I'm not one to overindulge."
"No, you wouldn't be,Allow me to explain, then, that the more you drink, the more thirsty you become. Not all the wine in the world can assuage the thirst for water. Water. Wine makes
you merry, but a man needs water to keep him alive. Pure, clean, sweet water. I am parched,Alice , scorched like a wasteland, burning
like a damned soul in hell. I thirst. — Gaelen Foley

If you have to ask someone to change, to tell you they love you, to bring wine to dinner, to call you when they land, you can't afford to be with them. It's not worth the price, even though, just like the Tiffany catalog, no one tells you what the price is. You set it yourself, and if you're lucky it's reasonable. You have a sense of when you're about to go bankrupt. Your own sense of self-worth takes the wheel and says, Enough of this shit. Stop making excuses. No one's that busy at work. No one's allergic to whipped cream. There are too cell phones in Sweden. But most people don't get lucky. They get human. They get crushes. This means you irrationally mortgage what little logic you own to pay for this one thing. This relationship is an impulse buy, and you'll figure out if it's worth it later. — Sloane Crosley

Ricco will take care of you," he said. "Ricco thinks you are beautiful-he blushes when your name is mentioned."
Ricco took their order and blushed when he put a glass of wine in front of Lauren. Mary's eyes twinkled, but when he left she looked directly at Lauren and said without preamble, "Would you like to talk about Nick?"
Lauren choked on her wine. "Please,let's not ruin a lovely lunch. I already know more than enough about him."
"What,for example?" Mary persisted gently.
"I know that he's an egotistical, arrogant, bad-tempered, dictatorial tyrant!"
"And you love him." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Yes," Lauren said angrily.
Mary was struggling obviously to hide her amusement at Lauren's tone. "I was certain that you did. I also suspect that he loves you. — Judith McNaught

The moon splits open.
We move through, waterbirds rising
to look for another lake.
Or say we are living in a love-ocean,
where trust works to caulk our body-boat,
to make it last a little while,
until the inevitable shipwreck,
the total marriage, the death-union.
Dissolve in friendship,
like two drunkards fighting.
Do not look for justice here
in the jungle where your animal soul
gives you bad advice.
Drink enough wine so that you stop talking.
You are a lover, and love is a tavern
where no one makes much sense.
Even if the things you say are poems
as dense as sacks of Solomon's gold,
they become pointless. — Rumi

So you wish to conquer in the Olympic Games, my friend? And I, too ... But first mark the conditions and the consequences. You will have to put yourself under discipline; to eat by rule, to avoid cakes and sweetmeats; to take exercise at the appointed hour whether you like it or not, in cold and heat; to abstain from cold drinks and wine at your will. Then, in the conflict itself you are likely enough to dislocate your wrist or twist your ankle, to swallow a great deal of dust, to be severely thrashed, and after all of these things, to be defeated. — Epictetus

Here's the problem, when you're stargazing on a mountain top you are partially oxygen-deprived and you're in command of million dollars worth of hardware. So as much as I would like to sip wine under the stars, it's contraindicated in the instructions on operating telescopes. — Neil DeGrasse Tyson

It's as though we had asked to have ice cubes in our wine, like, Ick, who are you? — David Sedaris

The French are sawed-off sissies who eat snails and slugs and cheese that smells like people's feet. Utter cowards who force their own children to drink wine, they gibber like baboons even when you try to speak to them in their own wimpy language. — P. J. O'Rourke

At the Saleve, the stove is drawing badly. This and the stale tobacco, rough wine and a perpetual acrid pungency (disinfectant or vomit, or both) are almost intolerable. But there's that tingling you've only got to register once: within two seconds it gets you at the back of your throat, and then immediately diffuses like a drop of oil. A sudden and surprising sweetness. Breathe in through your mouth, out through your nose. That's it. You're hooked.

Someone here is smoking hashish. — Jacques Yonnet

... the loneliness ... the "inexpressibly delicious" sensation of this memory - for as memories are older they're like wine rarer, till if you find a real old memory, one of infancy, not an established often tasted one but a brand new one, it would taste better than the Napoleon brandy Stendhal himself must have stared at ... — Jack Kerouac

Don't expect me to be sane anymore. Don't let's be sensible. It was a marriage at Louveciennes - you can't dispute it. I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous ... I can't see how I can go on living away from you - these intermissions are death. How did it seem to you when Hugo came back? Was I still there? I can't picture you moving about with him as you did with me. Legs closed. Frailty. Sweet, treacherous acquiescence. Bird docility. You became a woman with me. I was almost terrified by it. You are not just thirty years old - you are a thousand years old.
Here I am back and still smouldering with passion, like wine smoking. Not a passion any longer for flesh, but a complete hunger for you, a devouring hunger. — Henry Miller

You are a virgin," Layla said, sighing. "Think of it as an unavoidable stage of life, like getting
old and toothless and having to drink soup. Unfortunately, men seem to think that women are like new
wine, good only before being uncorked. — Eloisa James

If any man gives you a wine you can't bear, don't say it is beastly ... But don't say you like it. You are endangering your soul and the use of wine as well ... Seek out some other wine good to your taste. — Hilaire Belloc

Would you like some wine, or would you prefer to yell at me for a little longer?" asked the Beast pleasantly. "I could leave, if you prefer, but I generally hold that those who leave the room when you wish to yell at them are among the most despicable of beings. — T. Kingfisher

How do you make someone love you? For the very young, there can be nothing harder in the world. You may try as hard as you like: place yourself beside them, cook their favourite food, bring them wine or sing the love songs that you know will move them. They will not move them. Nothing will move them. You will waste days interpreting the simple banalities of a phone call; months staring at their soft lips as they talk; you will waste years watching a body sitting in a chair and willing every muscle to take you across the room and do a simple thing, say a simple word, make them love you and you will not do it; you will waste long nights wondering how they cannot feel this - the urge to embrace, the snow melt in the heart when you are near them - how they can sit in that chair, or speak with those lips, or make a call and mean nothing by it, hide nothing in their hearts. Or perhaps what they hide is not what you want to see. Because surely they love someone. It simply isn't you. — Andrew Sean Greer

Poetry is like air. It's one of the necessary things. Everyone benefits from poetry. And as you know, poetry is international. There are only two things that are truly international, poetry and wine. — Nikki Giovanni