Pretty please. With sugar.
It’s funny how the good things are all tied up with the bad. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. But either way, you end up taking your sugar with your salt and your kicks with your kisses.
I love the feeling of shredded wheat. I love healthy bird food with a fun-to-eat feel. Then you spray them with sugar, and I'm there.
Cheerios bring back memories. I actually don't think I ate them much as a kid, though; maybe it's some sort of Jungian memory, I don't know. But they have so much sugar, it's great.
I love to eat - Kit Kats or cookies-and-cream ice cream. I need sugar like five times a day.
I was eating bad stuff. Lots of sugar and carbs, junk food all the time. It makes you very irritated.
Sometimes 'great acting' is just showing off - chewing up scenery and dialogue and other actors - the equivalent of a theatrical sugar rush.
Sugar does make people happy, but then you fall off the edge after a few minutes, so I've really pretty much cut it out of my diet. Except for cupcakes. I like those.
Bank of America is to sweetheart loans and Democratic Party payoffs as Paula Deen is to sugar and bacon grease.
Parents shouldn't assume children are made out of sugar candy and will break and collapse instantly. Kids don't. We do.
I have no intention of retiring. Even my blood sugar is better when I'm working.
I was definitely one of those people who fell for the fat-free cookies and chips that are loaded with sugar and calories.
My mom was always really healthy and cautious about her diet, so I'm not a big sugar guy.
I never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way, and I don't want to be the kind that says the wrong way. But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats. There were some nice parts, sure, all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grain of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I'm sorry it's such a lousy story.
I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.
Your favorite colour . . . it's green?" "That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange." "Orange?" He seems unconvinced. "Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once." "Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you." But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.
The good and the bad, the sugar and the salt, the kicks and the kisses—what’s come before and what will come after, you and me—
This is Shaun Mason activating security protocol Campbell. The bridge is out, the trees are coming, and I’m pretty sure my hand is evil. Now gimme some sugar, baby.
Every day: Wear sunblock. Cover your gray. Do not go insane. Eat less fats and sugars. Do more sit-ups. Don’t start forgetting stuff. Trim the hair in your ears. Take calcium. Moisturize. Every day. Freeze in time to stay in one place forever. Do not get frigging old.
Love is Chocolate The unprocessed kind. Dark. Bitter. But always with the promise of sweet perfection. All it takes is sugar- that certain someone's kiss, flavored with possibility. If Dani has taught me anything, it's that life is brimming with possibilities. Every single day brings choices.
Want a sugar cube? [...] They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I . . . well, if we see something sweet we better grab it quick. [...] You're absolutely terrifying me in that get-up. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?
I am a gluttonous, gorging failure. A waste. My body isn’t used to high-sugar carbs laced with witchcraft. It can barely cope with soup and crackers.
I sipped my own coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, trying to make up for the late work the night before. Caffeine and sugar, the two basic food groups.
Your body, which is bonding millions of molecules every second, depends on transformation. Breathing and digestion harness transformation. Food and air aren’t just shuffled about but, rather, undergo the exact chemical bonding needed to keep you alive. The sugar extracted from an orange travels to the brain and fuels a thought. The emergent property in this case is the newness of the thought; no molecules in the history of the universe ever combined to produce that exact thought.
Dance of the Sugar Plum Bikey. Yes, that's got a nice ring to it.
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