Quotes About Sweetness

You've got a deep core of sweetness that's quite incorruptible.

Entonces me sonrió. Era una sonrisa dulce, cariñosa y tímida, como una flor que se abre. Era cordial, sincera y ligeramente turbada.

Sí, es como la vida misma- replicó ella-. Nos gustan las cosas dulces, pero necesitamos las amargas.

No te calles por mi culpa, Kvothe -dijo con dulzura-. Echaría de menos el sonido de tu voz.

Es amarga. —Así sabes que es una medicina —dije—. Si tuviera buen sabor, sería un caramelo. —Sí, es como la vida misma —replicó ella—. Nos gustan las cosas dulces, pero necesitamos las amargas.

I envied its innocence, its lack of care. Besides, too much sweetness cloys me. As does willful ignorance.

Algunas eran amargas; otras, dulces. Algunas no eran prácticamente nada. Así es como son las cosas.

Es como la vida misma [...]. Nos gustan las cosas dulces, pero necesitamos las amargas.

A babe whose feet smell of fresh butter, of bodily smells of pancakes and milky goodness and "where the hair makes a cowlick" smells like caramel, so sweet.

That deep silence has a melody of its own, a sweetness unknown amid the harsh discords of the world's sounds.

The hour of infused tea and closed books; the sweetness of feeling the evening's end.

The night folded around them with a sweetness and poignancy heightened by the new pale stars that prickled silver fire in the water of the lily ponds, by the scented winds, and by the nearness of each other.

I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo.

I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo. I don't know why. Is it because we are so unsure, so tentative and waiting? Like it needs that much room, that much space to expand. The not knowing anything really, the hoping, the aching transience: This is not real, not really, and so we let it alone, let it unfold lightly. Those times that can fly.

This was our ritual while we waited for our lives to truly begin and I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo. I don't know why. Is it because we are so unsure, so tentative and waiting? Like it needs that much room, that much space to expand. The not knowing anything really, the hoping, the aching transience: This is not real, not really, and so we let it alone, let it unfold lightly. Those times that can fly. That's the way it seems now looking back.

So he said to them: “Out of the eater came something to eat, and out of the strong came something sweet.” For three days they were unable to explain the riddle.

They are more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb.

How sweet are Your words to my taste—sweeter than honey in my mouth!

Desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul, but turning from evil is detestable to fools.

Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

Eat honey, my son, for it is good, and the honeycomb is sweet to your taste.

Know therefore that wisdom is sweet to your soul. If you find it, there is a future for you, and your hope will never be cut off.

The soul that is full loathes honey, but to a hungry soul, any bitter thing is sweet.

Your lips, my bride, drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the aroma of Lebanon.