Quotes About Indulgence

the sweetest temptation could be that which was known to be the most foolish.

Pleasure is the greatest incentive to evil.

It is a hard matter, my fellow citizens, to argue with the belly, since it has no ears.

A good American goes for it, just does it, slakes it, eats it, kills it, the more the better, damn the torpedoes!

I have a sweet tooth for song and music. This is my Polish sin.

Oh, do I know them? I positively swill in their ale.

Žinokite, kad nieko n?ra ?prastesnio, kaip daryti blog? iš malonumo j? daryti.

But now I was a rich man, three things have left me bare; dice, wine, and women, these three have made me poor.

Fucking for absolutely no reason is another thing that separates us from the animals."

One who is allowed to sin, sins less

Wickedness was like food: once you got started it was hard to stop; the gut expanded to take in more and more. —JOHN UPDIKE, The Witches of Eastwick

Vice is its own reward.

Forbidden pleasures alone are loved immoderately when lawful, they do not excite desire.

For a rich man monogamy is a waste of being rich.

Votre désir sera toujours plus fort que votre intelligence et votre instinctive prudence. Vous êtes une enfant gâtée qui n'hésite pas à prendre le jouet d'une autre même si, une fois en votre possession, le jouet vous semble moins beau. Vous voulez tout, Léa, et tout de suite

Had I known that coffee could taste so good, I would have gotten drunk on it every day.

The platter could probably sate four starving Ethiopians into a crapulous state.

I don't categorize food as bad or a guilty pleasure.

But above all, buying is a profound pleasure: it is a discovery, almost an invention.

Can I come back and see you sometime?" "Long as you bring me some chocolate," Gramma said, and smiled. "I'm partial to chocolate." "Gramma, you're diabetic." "I'm old, girl. Gonna die of something. Might as well be chocolate.

He was the kind of guy who made Sadie a lit­tle un­com­fort­able. The kind who wore leather and drank beer and crushed emp­ties on their fore­heads. The kind who made her stand a lit­tle straighter. The kind she avoided like a hot fudge brownie be­cause both were bad news for her thighs.

I am a very good cook." When she did cook. "Good. I like to eat." He lightly bit her palm. The too-much-air feeling in Lucy's stomach pressed upward into her heart. "What?" she asked past the constriction in her chest. "What do I like to eat?" "Yeah." "Blondes with blue eyes." Oh God. She pulled her hand from his. "Are you hungry?" His gaze lowered to her mouth. "I could eat.

I love a waffle fry.

Who doesn't like a nice Belgian waffle?