A Quote by Virginia Woolf
Language is wine upon the lips.
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An old wine-bibber having been smashed in a railway collision, some wine was poured on his lips to revive him.
Lips move; lips touch; lips signal. Lips are on the outside for show, and on the most secret inside of your mouth. Lips frame words that lie. Lips frame a hole that wants to be filled.
And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine Burned like the ruby fire set In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine, Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate, Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.
Your lips and mine, two sips of wine, memories are made of this.
I Love your lips when they're wet with wine and red with wicked desire.
Between lips and lips there are cities of great ash and moist summit, drops of when and how, vague comings and goings: between lips and lips as along a shore of sand and glass the wind passes.
I definitely am drawn to deeper reds and wine colors for lips and even cheeks during the holiday.
One of the most insidious myths in American wine culture is that a wine is good if you like it. Liking a wine has nothing to do with whether it is good. Liking a wine has to do with liking that wine, period. Wine requires two assessments: one subjective, the other objective. In this it is like literature. You may not like reading Shakespeare but agree that Shakespeare was a great writer nonetheless.
Is that what the wine is for? To help you think?" "Oh, the wine. The wine, Costis, is to help hide the truth. It doesn't work. It never has, but I try it every once in a while just in case something in the nature of the wine might have changed.
Growing up, my dad drank a lot of wine, so I got a taste for, and learned how to enjoy it. He spoke a lot about flavors and differences in tastes of wine. Also, our manager, Rick Sales, is a big wine drinker; he goes to a lot of wine-tasting classes, and he's taught me about the qualities of wine.
I would like a wine. The purpose of the wine is to get me drunk. A bad wine will get me as drunk as a good wine. I would like the good wine. And since the result is the same no matter which wine I drink, I'd like to pay the bad wine price.
his lips drink water but his heart drinks wine
Woke up this morning with a wine glass in my hand. Who's wine, what wine, where the hell did I dine?
Your language, dear," Victoria reproved gently. "A lady never curses in public. There are much better ways to handle the delicate male ego." Keiley paused. "With a two-by-four?" she asked. Victoria's lips pursed a smile tugged at her lips. "Only as a last resort," she murmured humorously. "And never in public.
There comes a moment on a journey when something sweet, something irresistible and charming as wine raised to thirsty lips, wells up in the traveller's being.
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