Void of all honor, avaricious, rash, The daring tribe compound their boasted trash Tincture of syrup, lotion, drop, or pill; All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill.
I always have a good quality extra virgin olive oil. A cheap quality oil will end up cheapening your dishes. And I love sweetening my dishes with maple syrup. It has a bit of a bitter kick at the end that works wonderfully in savory dishes.
In the U.S., too many yogurts are filled with corn syrup, preservatives, artificial this and that. To me, this is poison.
If it's not 100 per cent pure maple syrup, it can't be called 'pure maple syrup.
A waffle is like a pancake with a syrup trap.
I happen to know everything there is to know about maple syrup! I love maple syrup. I love maple syrup on pancakes. I love it on pizza. And I take maple syrup and put a little bit in my hair when I've had a rough week. What do you think holds it up, slick?
I'm not from a maple producing area and so my maple syrup credentials are very much of the eating side.
Cats know everything there is to know about meditation.
Minerva save us from the cloying syrup of coercive compassion!
I drink maple syrup. Then I'm hyper so I just run around like crazy and work it all off.
Waffles are like pancakes with syrup traps
I am passionate about tea, running, the idea that we are bound only by the limits of our imaginations, and maple syrup.
Just 'cause you pour syrup on something doesnt make it pancakes
Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.
Man is a free moral agent and can be magnanimous and deal disinterestedly, humanity is a definite goal, social justice is desirable and possible, individual lives may be gloriously diversified, uniquely individualized, and yet socially useful; or, these are mere phrases, snares to catch gulls, soothing syrup for our troubled souls.
I nodded, chewing my own syrup-soaked bite. "But surely that's not all there is to it. I mean, really? A big picnic? That's Avari's master plan? That makes him sound about as dangerous as Yogi Bear." Tod shrugged. "Yeah. If Yogi were a soul-sucking, body-stealing, boyfriend-snatching, damned-soul-torturing evil demon from another world. Besides, what else could he be planning?
I call the light and high aspects of my being spirit and the dark and heavy aspects soul. Soul is at home in the deep, shaded valleys. Heavy torpid flowers saturated with black grow there. The rivers flow like warm syrup. They empty into huge oceans of soul. Spirit is a land of high white peaks and glittering jewel-like lakes and flowers. Life is sparse and sounds travel great distances. There is soul music, soul food, and soul love... People need to climb the mountain not simple because it is there But because the soulful divinity needs to be mated with the spirit.
Date syrup is a natural sweetener that has wonderful richness and treacly depth; I drizzle it over semolina porridge.
I would always drink purple drink - syrup. I would just be in a room, screwing and chopping up music. It was like an alter ego - I would turn into another person when I was on a substance. My music would get darker and weirder, and it inspired a lot of people. But I've changed my life and stopped smoking. I like to turn up and have fun when I get the chance, but I don't overdo it now.
We still have to put some cherry syrup on it, and then we can eat it
I'm an awfully loyal friend. Once I've started a relationship with someone, it's like they are syrup and I'm a pancake. Their syrup gets into my pancake, so to speak.
We eat pancakes to escape loneliness, yet within moments we want nothing more than our freedom from ever having so much as thought about pancakes. Nothing can prevent us, after eating pancakes, from feeling the most awful regret. After eating pancakes, our great mission in life becomes the repudiation of the pancakes and everything served along with them, the bacon and the syrup and the sausage and coffee and jellies and jams. But these things are beneath mention, compared with the pancakes themselves. It is the pancake--Pancakes! Pancakes!--that we never learn to respect.
It gets to be 2 a.m., and they hand you a bottle of whipped cream and some syrup and things start getting silly.
Soul is at home in the deep, shaded valleys. Heavy torpid flowers saturated with black grow there. The rivers flow like warm syrup. They empty into huge oceans of soul.
The food that's never let me down in life is porridge, especially with milk and maple syrup, which is delicious. Paris isn't a porridge place, but I can buy it in London when I'm there and bring it back with me.
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