D. H. Lawrence Quotes

I just want a hot cup of coffee,black,and I don’t want to hear about your troubles.

The alarm rings 4:45, again at 5, but I wake up 4:30 naturally. Shower, shave, orange juice, perk my own coffee, hear the news, and the CBS car arrives 5:30.

I bought an espresso maker and coffee maker and make them myself every day.

I like my coffee light.

I remember my grandmother drying wild coffee berries in the sun, then hulling and roasting them for her own cup of coffee each morning.

The coffee in Araku is the best I have had so far.

I definitely pack coffee if I'm going someplace where it might not be available. When I went to Afghanistan in 2011, I brought a bunch of instant coffee. I didn't need to do that, of course, because army people drink industrial-strength coffee and have it going 24/7.

The first requisite for a good cup of coffee in the morning is to get your wife out of bed.

I take my coffee like I take my women... strong... black... and proud.

We got a little rule back home: If it's brown, drink it down. If it's black, send it back.

Coffee in Brazil is always made fresh and, except at breakfast time, drunk jet black from demitasses first filled almost to the brim with the characteristic moist, soft coffee sugar of the country, which melts five times as fast as our hard granulated. For breakfast larger cups are used, and they're more than half filled with cream. This cafe con leite doesn't re-quire so much sugar as cafe preto-black coffee.

Making coffee has become the great compromise of the decade. It's the only thing "real" men do that doesn't seem to threaten their masculinity. To women, it's on the same domestic entry level as putting the spring back into the toilet-tissue holder or taking a chicken out of the freezer to thaw.

He sounded harassed more than anything else, like mass home invasion was just something standing between him and morning coffee.

The more complicated the order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a 'decaf grandee, half soy, half lowfat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet,' ooooh, you're a huge asshole.

Three in the morning. Making yourself a cup of coffee in the dark, using a flashlight when you pour the boiling water.

He liked the idea of coffee quite a lot—a warm drink that gave you energy and had been for centuries associated with sophisticates and intellectuals. But coffee itself tasted to him like caffeinated stomach bile.

You're not really drinking coffee unless you drink it black, don't you think? Oh, no? You like to monkey with it?

I will take my coffee black / never snack / hang with the wolves who are sheepish.

Our bodies are garbage heaps: we collect experience, and from the decomposition of the thrown-out eggshells, spinach leaves, coffee grinds, and old steak bones out of our minds come nitrogen, heat, and very fertile soil. Out of this fertile soil bloom our poems and stories. But this does not come all at once. It takes time. Continue to turn over and over the organic details of your life until some of them fall through the garbage of discursive thoughts to the solid ground of black soil.

On Saturday mornings I would walk to the Flavor Cup or Puerto Rico Importing coffee store to get my coffee. Often it was freshly roasted and the beans were still warm. Coffee was my nectar and my ambrosia: I was very careful about it. I decanted my beans into glass...and I ground them in little batches in my grinder.

That's something that annoys the hell out of me-I mean if somebody says the coffee's all ready and it isn't.

I turned and found Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit. Walk with me,” he said. Where to?” I asked suspiciously. Just to the campfire,” he said. “I was beginning to feel better, so I thought I would talk with you a bit. You always manage to annoy me.” Uh, thanks.

And you stagger down to break your fast. Greasy bacon and lacquered eggs And coffee composed of frigid dregs.

The coffee was boiling over a charcoal fire, and large slices of bread and butter were piled one upon the other like deals in a lumber yard.

You make good coffee . . . You're a slob, but you make good coffee.