Quotes About Taste

I love John Waters. There's stuff in it that's beyond the boundaries of my taste, but his movies have always been like that.

I don't trust people with empty-stomach breath to tell me what taste is.

Looks delicious," he lied. "A mite crispy along the edges - but then, I like it that way." Incredulous eyes met his own. "You like your potatoes burned?" Ah, so he'd been right about that. If he could still recognize what it was she'd cooked, then surely he could eat it.

Jack kissed her long and deep, with a driving need that radiated all the way to his bones. Pausing, he took an extra moment to breathe in the honeyed fragrance of her skin, to taste the sweet flavor of her tongue as it slid like hot, damp silk against his own. He shuddered from the pleasure, relishing the sensations as though they were manna from heaven.

He chuckled low in his throat as he slowly eased away, leaving he momentarily confused and bereft, her body keenly aware of the abrupt loss of pleasure. His eyes gleamed like gold coins. "You taste every bit as sweet as you look, my dear." He skimmed the back of one finger over her cheek. "Maybe this bargain we're making won't be such a bad one after all.

Maybe we should acquire a taste for bittersweet, " said Reynie with a grin. Then everything would feel wonderful.

Maybe we should acquire a taste for bittersweet," said Reynie with a grin. "Then everything would feel wonderful.

Your supposed to drink wine, my friend, not breathe it.

This papaya tastes boring. I guess I normally like papaya. But this one is sort of boring all the way through. Like eating water. Boring water. I wonder when it will be sun time. Maybe I should try a different papaya after this one. But what if the next papaya is boring, too?

This papaya tastes boring. I guess I normally like papaya. But this one is sort of boring all the way through. Like eating water. Boring water. I wonder when it will be sun time. Maybe I should try a different papaya after this one. But what if the next papaya is boring, too? That

none of which involve finding out your preferences first.

my rice always tastes like rice.

all agree that the people are most uncommonly amiable and good-looking, their only faults being cannibalism and unlimited fornication. But neither of these is erected into a religious system, oh no: the divine offerings are invariably swine, the cannibalism being simply a matter of taste or inclination; while the fornication has nothing ceremonial or compulsory about it.

Gómez de la Serna illustrates this with a dialogue between a critic and a sage: Critic: It is true that these pictures do not displease my eye; but since I do not understand them, I cannot like them. Sage: What did you have for lunch? Critic: Oysters. Sage: Do you like oysters? Critic: Passionately. Sage: Do you understand oysters?

Intolerance for ugliness is not in itself enough. You have to understand a field well before you develop a good nose for what needs fixing. You have to do your homework. But as you become expert in a field, you'll start to hear little voices saying, What a hack! There must be a better way. Don't ignore those voices. Cultivate them. The recipe for great work is: very exacting taste, plus the ability to gratify it.

Less frightening, but no less disgusting, is the Iranian taste for jam made out of carrots.

The mustard lined his lips. At one point a strand of sauerkraut was smeared against his chin.

Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.

Never be ashamed,' he said. 'Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.' 'How will I know which is which?' 'By the taste. You can only know a good wine if you have first tasted a bad one.

Life is like cooking: before choosing what you love, try everything... ?

No argument can persuade me to like oysters if I do not like them. In other words, the disturbing thing about matters of taste is that they are not communicable.

Savory...that's a swell word. And Basil and Betel. Capsicum. Curry. All great. But Relish, now, Relish with a capital R. No argument, that' the best.

Art has a will of its own. It has nothing to do with the taste of the moment or what's expected of you. That's a formula for dead art, or fashionable art.

The philistine provides the best definition of art. Anything that makes him rage is first class.