Honey Quotes

Like honey is the sleep of the just.

Drink up my honey eyes,Kiss them shut every night,And be my 'one' all my life.

Honey, no offense, but sometimes I think I could shoot you and watch you kick.

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.

Servers moved among the guests with trays of hors d'oeuvres and the signature cocktail, champagne with a honey infused liqueur and a delicate spiral twist of lemon.The banquet was bursting with color and flavor- flower-sprinkled salads, savory chili roasted salmon, honey glazed ribs, just-harvested sweet corn, lush tomatoes and berries, artisan cheeses. Everything had been harvested within a fifty-mile radius of Bella Vista.The cake was exactly what Tess had requested, a gorgeous tower of sweetness. Tess offered a gracious speech as she and Dominic cut the first slices. "I've come a long way from the city girl who subsisted on Red Bull and microwave burritos," she said. "There's quite a list of people to thank for that- my wonderful mother, my grandfather and my beautiful sister who created this place of celebration. Most of all, I'm grateful to Dominic." She turned to him, offering the first piece on a yellow china plate. "You're my heart, and there is no sweeter feeling than the love we share. Not even this cake. Wait, that might be overstating it. Everyone, be sure you taste this cake. It's one of Isabel's best recipes.

The taste of moon is like honey to all honeymooners, but after some years does the moon's scar make it bitter?

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.

When you see honey in the bush and there are no sign of bees, flee!! for its all but a trap

Even the bees I'd swear were sent to protect us in the delicate business of hives and honey are stung to silence by the news that something winged has lost its flight.

Stands the Church clock at ten to three?And is there honey still for tea?

Not all honey— she had concluded— had a specific use beyond what all honey is good for, sweetness and salves. But this honey, it was somehow so strong that it must be for something, though she had still not learnt what it was. The best she had come to was that this honey was for joy...

The ideas flow like milk and honey in my land, my mind.

The Honey that Adorns my soul to Network with all Nobility in an Affable Humility means Hannah

It smells of blood and honey, of sex and song.

His lies flowed eloquently like honey flowing from a hot spoon

The woman's face was grimly drawn, an ugly expression on an indescribably beautiful face. “This is the Shadowdun. You know who I am, but I wish to know you more. What is your name?” Her voice was rich; it sounded sweet and smooth in Athena's ears, like soft honey. She hated every last word.

She is beautiful like an angel, charming like a fairy and sweet like honey.

A WATERY BLISSAs busy as an ice cream freezer,On a Sunday getting hotter,Happy is the honey eater-The busy ocean otter,Floating alongside Teter,On a sea full of water.

You can't rock the boat & act like you were just trying to put a baby to sleep.

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.

The fun part is finding which thoughts, in that crazy beehive of emotion, are the ones that mass produce the honey.

Love is for the birds.Honey is for the bees.And you, my special one.Are the only one for me.

We are not wrong, perhaps, to be heedful of justice in the midst of a universe that heeds not at all; as the bee is not wrong to make honey in a world that itself can make none. But we are wrong to desire an external justice, since we know that it does not exist. Let that which is in us suffice. All is for ever being weighed and judged in our soul. It is we who shall judge ourselves; or rather, our happiness is our judge.

She was drowning in sandalwood and sunlight. Time ceased to be more than a notion. Her lips were hers one moment. And then they were his. The taste of him on her tongue was like sun-warmed honey. Like cool water sliding down her parched throat. Like the promise of all her tomorrows in a single sigh. When she wound her fingers in his hair to draw her body against his, he stilled for breath, and she knew, as he knew, that they were lost. Lost forever. In this kiss. This kiss that would change everything.

There is honey in this land sweeter than any I know of, and I have cut cane in places where the dirt itself tasted like sugar, so that's saying a heap.

Everything is inspiration. If you look at the world as the incredible place it is, then each moment is a feast.

What is happening to me happens to all fruits that grow ripe. It is the honey in my veins that makes my blood thicker, and my soul quieter.

Justice is the very last thing of all wherewith the universe concerns itself. It is equilibrium that absorbs its attention; and what we term justice is truly nothing but this equilibrium transformed, as honey is nothing but a transformation of the sweetness found in the flower. Outside man there is no justice; within him injustice cannot be.

Love drips like honey from the hive, constant, sweet, precious, into your heart each and every moment if you let it.

We think we can make honey without sharing in the fate of bees, but we are in truth nothing but poor bees, destined to accomplish our task and then die.

I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodkahoney.

It's not that I couldn't love you moreI loved you in a way I thought you deserved You thought you deserved moreI just didn't see It

Although you can not hear my thoughts, Sam, I imagine I’m talking to you. Prayers to the brother who abandoned me. The day after you left Labrador, my honey started flowing. Is my body weeping for your loss?