Chocolate Quotes

Now she and I sit together in her room and eat chocolate, and I tell her that in a very long time when we both to go heaven, we should try to get chairs next to each other, close to the dessert table.

There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.

OK. Yoga position 99.

You are trying to lure us into revealing information you're not entitled to? With chocolate and wine? Are you amateurs?

The rich scent of my favorite caffeinated beverage sends trickles of pleasure across my skin as I step inside. Is there anything better than coffee? Chocolate maybe and sex ranks very close I suppose.

It's all—let's use a very specific word here—miraculous. You, me, love, quarks, sex, chocolate, the speed of light—it's all miraculous, and it always has been.

Art arises from loss. I wish this weren't the case. I wish that every time I met a new woman and she rocked my world, I was inspired to write my ass off. But that is not what happens. What happens is we lie around in bed eating chocolate and screwing. Art is what happens when things don't work out, when you're licking your wounds. Art is, to a larger extent than people would like to think, a productive licking of the wounds.

Are bacon and chocolate the foundation of a good meal? No, everybody knowsthat is a deep fryer and/or gravy. However, I have long held the notion that you can't name a food that I can't improve by adding either bacon or chocolate.

She had to lift both hands to illustrate what she meant, but he just let her carry his hand with her, not about to let go. She pushed the free hand toward the one he held, apparently trying to gesture closeness. "Warm," she said again. And then she did something that undid him to the last faint whisper of his soul: she gave his hand a squeeze with fingertips that could just barely reach around his, apparently using him to indicate what she wanted to say. He meant warmth. He meant this word she couldn't find.

When I die,' I said to my friend, 'I'm not going to be embalmed. I'm going to be dipped.' Milk chocolate or bittersweet was the immediate concern.

His other hand finds my cheek, and he wipes away my tears with his thumb. The chocolate scent overwhelms me as he bends over and whispers in my ear, “No, Cassie. No, no, no.”I throw my arm around his neck and press his dry cheek against my wet one. I’m shaking like an epileptic, and for the first time I can feel the weight of the quilts on the top of my toes because the blinding dark sharpens your other senses.I’m a bubbling stew of random thoughts and feelings. I’m worried my hair might smell. I want some chocolate. This guy holding me—well, it’s more like I was holding him—has seen me in all my naked glory. What did he think about my body? What did I think about my body? Does God really care about promises? Do I really care about God? Are miracles something like the Red Sea parting or more like Evan Walker finding me locked in a block of ice in a wilderness of white?“Cassie, it’s going to be okay,” he whispers into my ear, chocolate breath.

Tears welled in his eyes. It was like watching chocolate melt.

I don't like flowers, chocolate, cakes or diamonds either, I am definitely not a hard one to impress.

If I do find out the Secret,I won't be able to tell it to you-you know that right?And that doesn't mean I don't trust you.It's just because I can't.Sometimes even best friends have to keep secrets from each other."-Cass

Yes, boys are a little like shoes. Why? Well...They can be useful. But mainly...They are nice to look at. Getting the right one can be a lovely accessory to an outfit. There are times when you couldn't do without them. And there are times when you'd rather do without them. Get the wrong ones and they can hurt. There are many types and often the ones that look the nicest are completely unpractical.

Like chocolate, she craved sleep and it made her life brighter, but she could do without.

I had a dream about you. Your skin was sandpaper and your armpits were hollow, filled with dark chocolate and prunes. You offered me coffee and when I said no you handed me black coffee with a note that read "12 reasons not to drink coffee". I knew we would get along.

We had laid down the law : no chocolate, no sex.

Mentioning violence to Bruce was like mentioning chocolate sauce to a six-year-old.