A Quote by Larissa Ione

And your skin, it tastes like me. I want to taste you everywhere. — © Larissa Ione
And your skin, it tastes like me. I want to taste you everywhere.
When we finished the kiss she said laughing, I can taste your loneliness - it tastes like vinegar. That annoyed me. Everyone knows loneliness tastes like cold potato soup.
If your taste goes wrong or you listen to other people's tastes too much, even though they could make a fantastic movie out of it with their own tastes, if they blend their tastes with mine, it's probably going to be a mess.
Gus: "It tastes like..." Me: "Food." Gus: "Yes, precisely. It tastes like food, excellently prepared. But it does not taste, how do I put this delicately...?" Me: "It does not taste like God Himself cooked heaven into a series of five dishes which were then served to you accompanied by several luminous balls of fermented, bubbly plasma while actual and literal flower petals floated down around your canal-side dinner table." Gus: "Nicely phrased." Gus's father: "Our children are weird." My dad: "Nicely phrased."
I'm an aesthetic empiricist. If you like something, it doesn't matter who made it. There really is no objective standard other than your own taste. You develop your own tastes, you find things that do or do not fit your tastes, and therefore are or are not 'good.' Whether they have been labeled as produced by the right person is another matter.
I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.
I can’t wait to find out how you taste, and you won’t want me to stop even after I’ve completely exhausted you. You’ll think you were on fire, your skin will burn. I’ll suck all of your juices out of you. And then I’ll drink your blood.
Screw poetry, it’s you I want, your taste, rain on you, mouth on your skin.
A taste so profound and complex that it can't even be compared to other tastes, only to emotions. Cheesy waffles, I was thinking, tastes like love without the fear of love's dissolution.
I'm not afraid to call a wine that tastes like Skittles or green peppers mixed with orange marmalade. I'll say, 'It tastes like chicken.' I mean, that's not what people think of when they think of wine, but that's what it tastes like to me and it hits home.
You taste of the cool water that hides deep in a stream. You taste of the night air, soft and scented and mysterious. The taste of you drives me wild. I want to be with you, be inside you, shout to the world that you are mine at the same time I want to keep you hidden where you will exist only for me. You make me feel invincible, little bird.
My wife, trying to be helpful, goes to the grocery store and buys this stuff called soy bacon. Let me tell you something: I know soy beans are good for a lot of things. Let's stay out of the bacon market! It says It looks and tastes like real bacon! No it doesn't! It tastes like somebody bacon-flavored a turd, that's what it tastes like!
I am like a chief. I like to taste the food. If it tastes bad, I don't serve it. I'm constantly monitoring what we do, and I'm always looking for better ways we can provide financial services, ways that would make me happy if I were a client.
If your choice enters into it, then taste is involved - bad taste, good taste, uninteresting taste. Taste is the enemy of art, A-R-T.
Unhappiness is a dangerous thing, like carbon monoxide. You don't smell it, you don't taste it, it's formless and colourless, but it poisons slowly. It seeps into every pore of your skin until one day your heart just stops beating.
Polly Jean, I love you. I love the texture of your skin, the taste of your saliva, the softness of your ears. I love every inch and every part of your entire body. From your toes and the beautifully curved arches of your feet, to the exceptional shade and warmth of your dark hair. I need you in my life, I hope you need me too.
You acquire certain tastes. And if your taste happens to coincide with the majority of people, then you're in pretty good shape. But you're not always right. There were times when I stubbed my toe, and some will end up being on my tombstone - like 'Supertrain.'
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