Sweet Table Quotes

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Sweet Table Quotes

Still others reflected on how quickly the food could be snatched from a mans table, or the child from a womans breast, or the wife from a mans bedcloset, that no strength of grasp could hold these goods in place. And others remarked to themselves how sweet these goods were, in spite of that, and saw that pleasure lost in every moment is pleasure lost forever.
— Jane Smiley —

A comma ... catches the gentle drift of the mind in thought, turning in on itself and back on itself, reversing, redoubling, and returning along the course of its own sweet river music; while the semicolon brings clauses and thoughts together with all the silent discretion of a hostess arranging guests around her dinner table.

— Pico Iyer

The abundant life is a spiritual life. Too many sit at the banquet table of the gospel of Jesus Christ and merely nibble at the feast placed before them. They go through the motions-attending their meetings perhaps, glancing at scriptures, repeating familiar prayers-but their hearts are far away. If they are honest, they would admit to being more interested in the latest neighborhood rumors, stock market trends, and their favorite TV show than they are in the supernal wonders and sweet ministerings of the Holy Spirit. Do you wish to partake of this living water and experience that divine well springing up within you to everlasting life? Then be not afraid. Believe with all your hearts. Develop an unshakable faith in the Son of God. Let your hearts reach out in earnest prayer. Fill your minds with knowledge of Him. Forsake your weaknesses. Walk in holiness and harmony with the commandments. Drink deeply of the living waters of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

— Joseph B. Wirthlin

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

I had never been to Texas. I'd been through Texas, but I'm so glad to be back in a place that's not L.A. or New York. To talk about Dallas, to talk about there being sweet tea on the catering table, it's rich and saturated in American-ness.

— Kelli Giddish

I glance back at Drew, who is still
eyeing his phone and being awfully quiet. "Seriously, Baylor, I'm about to
confiscate that thing."
He raises a brow at me, and gives me his old, innocent grin-which I am not
falling for. "You really are a mom, aren't you?"
"As I recall, you played the role of Mom. I was Dad."
"Doesn't that mean we're on a date now? And all I get is this lousy dinner?"
Drew leans his arms on the table. "Where are my flowers?"
"I'll make it up to you with sweet talk later. Now answer the question, Battle.
What the hell is up with the phone?"
As if I've activated it, the damn thing lights up, and Drew glances down. He
fights to hide his smile. "What can I say? I'm totally pussy whipped by my wife to
be. That's right, I'm replacing you with Anna.

— Kristen Callihan

On the day of the races at Krasnoe Selo, Vronsky had come earlier than usual to eat beefsteak in the common messroom of the regiment. He had no need to be strict with himself, as he had very quickly been brought down to the required light weight; but still he had to avoid gaining flesh, and so he eschewed farinaceous and sweet dishes. He sat with his coat unbuttoned over a white waistcoat, resting both elbows on the table, and while waiting for the steak he had ordered he looked at a French novel that lay open on his plate. He was only looking at the book to avoid conversation with the officers coming in and out; he was thinking.

— Leo Tolstoy

What are you thinking? Sandwiches?" Finn asked in a hopeful voice. "No. I'm in the mood for something sweet." I grabbed the butter out of the fridge, then rummaged through the cabinets. Flour, oats, dried apricots, golden raisins, brown sugar, vanilla. I pulled them out, along with some mixing cups, a baking pan, a spatula, and a bowl. Finn settled himself at the kitchen table and drank his coffee while I worked. By the time Jo-Jo walked back into the kitchen, I was sliding the batter into the oven. "Whatcha making?" the dwarf asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Apricot bars,

— Jennifer Estep

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