I put the guitar back in the case. I can't even look at it anymore. Instead, I want to make brownies. I want an end result there's a recipe for. I want to combine eggs and water and oil and chocolate and flour and sugar and vanilla and get something fulfilling.
But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards.
White Chocolate. Intense, sweet. But not deep. Okay for prom dates or flings, but not to get serious..Milk chocolates are guys you could date for like a few months, and dark chocolates are for love.
Like magic, she felt him getting nearer, felt it like a pull in the pit of her stomach. It felt like hunger but deeper, heavier. Like the best kind of expectation. Ice cream expectation. Chocolate expectation.
Here is my prescription to heal all wounds. Watch the film Funny Girl at least five times, eat at least 45 chocolate bars, and hang out with all those friends you blew off to hang out with your ex. I truly believe that, through a combination of Nutella, old pals and Barbra Streisand, we can achieve happiness and, very probably, world peace.
I have days when I say, 'I'm going to have five chocolate chip cookies today.' I'll have a salad every day but every week I have a cheat day.
I've learnt that if I tell myself I'm not allowed something, I binge on it later. So if I want chocolate, I have chocolate. If I want biscuits, I have biscuits. I love cake. I just love cake.
Chocolate is what I love. I have it every day.
I feel like there is this weird thing where celebrity involvement in political campaigns kind of goes together like peanut butter and chocolate. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad.
Science has yet to isolate the Godiva Chocolate or Prada gene, but that doesn't mean your weakness for pricey swag isn't woven into your DNA. According to a new study of identical twins, it's less TV ads or Labor Day sales that make you buy the things you do than the tastes and temperaments that are already part of you at birth.
You want to give me chocolate and flowers? That would be great. I love them both. I just don't want them out of guilt, and I don't want them if you're not going to give them to all the people who helped mother our children.
I'm a big potato chip girl. I don't like chocolate and cakes and all that, but I have to have my potato chips. I've got bags in the back of my car right now! But I never beat myself up about it, because, look: You can't give up every damn thing. You need something in your life that you like just because you like it!
I'm pretty much a chocolate guy. I'm up for any type of chocolate. Any chocolate.
I guess if I'm a product, either you're chocolate, you're vanilla or you're butterscotch. You can't be all three.
It was the first time that I had ever been romantically kissed. It was even better than the chocolate cake.
So, what do you do when you know you have two days to live? Eat an entire Bitter Chocolate Death cake all by myself. Reread my favorite novel. Buy eight dozen roses from the best florist in town--the super expensive ones, the ones that smell like roses rather than merely looking like them--and put them all over my apartment. Take a good long look at everyone I love.
He was raw and sharp and rich and throbbing with life. He was sweet blood after a long hunt. How could she have mistaken Aiden's kisses for this? They had been delicious and smooth like the brief comfort of chocolate, but they had never been enough.
Do you want to hang out? At your place or something?" Hanging out with Jimmy Hailler will mean that I have to say hello to him every day. I'm not ready to say hello to him every day. Too much commitment. It's bad enough that I'm sharing chocolate brownies swith him. I shake my head. "Not today.
Valentine's Day is different for old people. At this age I receive chocolates in boxes shaped like artificial hearts.
Granola didn't sell very well when it was good for you. Now it has caramel, chocolate, marshmallow, saturated fat and sweeteners with a small amount of oats and grains. Sales picked up.
What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?
The Duchess set about studying Annette and shortly found her adversary's tragic flaw. Chocolate.
Usually she ordered a cup of coffee and a cup of tea, as well as a brownie, propping up her sadness with chocolate and caffeine so that it became an anxiety.
Like a battalion of marines at roll call, her neck hairs marshaled to five-alarm status. She stumbled back to her desk, jerked open the botton drawer, retrieved a pair of Nighthawk binoculars, fixed the scopes on him, and fiddled with the focus. Gotcha. Hair the colour of coal. Chocolate brown eyes. A five-o'clock shadow ringing his craggy jawline. Handsome as the day was long... He sauntered towards her, oozing charisma from every pore. Charlee forgot to breathe. And then he committed the gravest sin of all, knocking her world helter-skelter. The scoundrel smiled.
I like when people give up chocolate for Lent. Ooh, just like being nailed to a cross.
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