taste [Theme] Page 2
Even heroism is ignoring potential suffering through the efforts of courage. On this planet, those who know the taste of torment are highly valued. This is to some extent a perversion.
Taste is the ability to understand what makes you feel.
There is no good taste without respect for the past.
My favorite autumn. So tenderly warming the heart. Its colors are emerald, honey and gold. It feels like cashmere. And it tastes like cinnamon coffee. And every day I want to surround myself with autumn comforts more and more. Wrap yourself in a warm blanket, wear feminine dresses made of fine wool, bake pies with ginger and cinnamon, pour fragrant tea from a bouquet of summer dried herbs or coffee with herbs and spices into mugs, light candles and take your time. Autumn is the time to accumulate honey rays of the sun, the aroma of maple leaves and inspiration in your heart. Time for warmth, for tenderness, for love...
Toxic love is like a poisonous plant that attracts with its appearance, but is fraught with disease and death. A naive person, deceived by its beauty, may taste its fruit, assuming that the inside matches the outside, but this may end in death or hospitalization. If you see that a relationship is tied to money, things, visiting expensive restaurants - this is like a litmus test showing that there is poison behind it. There is no real love here.
Wake up before the birds and run to collect the morning dew, enjoying the transience of the minutes... Hello, sun, I'm already tired of waiting. Let's quickly disperse the gray clouds and release the sunbeams...
The truth is bitter in taste, like natural coffee - that's why most people drink it only with sugar, that is, eating illusions.
It was the taste of hatred - my hatred, the hatred of the prisoners, the hatred of the guards and the whole world. Prisons are temples where devils learn to pray. Slamming the door of someone's cell, we turn the knife of fate in the wound, because in doing so we lock the person alone with his hatred.
My best friend and I had these breakups in the same week. All of a sudden, both of us were left with just “me.” We didn't kiss our loved ones at night. We didn't wait for a call at the end of the evening to talk about how the day went. We got used to the fact that it takes only a fraction of a second for two people to be alone.
According to some people [Mostly those who are not in danger of experiencing it firsthand. All sorts of politicians and writers immediately come to mind.], a heroic death is a wonderful thing. This argument has never convinced me, primarily because no matter how noble, elegant, restrained, proud and adamant you are, no matter how courageous and dignified you are, in the end you will still be dead. And this state, for my taste, is a little too constant.
Food tastes completely different if you eat more than one.
I don't need Bluetooth for love!
Looks like I'll be the first!
My love for you has no limits.
Only the linden flower knows better than anyone the true value, aroma and taste of May honey.
