Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Savored. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Savored Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Pamela Paul,Anne Rice,Cat Winters,Hannah Mary Rothschild,Laurelin Paige for you to enjoy and share.
Whenever one of us introduced an old favorite, we savored the other's first delight like a shared meal eaten with a newly acquired gusto, as if we'd never truly tasted it before.
I drank, sucking the blood out of the holes, experiencing for the first time since infancy the special pleasure of sucking nourishment, the body focused with the mind upon one vital source.
His mouth tasted of the divine sweetness of icing on a cake when the sugar isn't overdone. The taste of love before any pain gets in the way.
Eating was an essential, sensual and communal activity requiring nothing more than taste buds and an open mind.
It was a kiss that took - took my desire, took my passion, took my will.
It tasted of twilight and mist, moonlight and frost, emptiness and longing.
Raw, gentle, and easy, it mizzled out of the high air, a special elixir, tasting of spells and stars and air, carrying a peppery dust in it, and moving like a rare light sherry on his tongue. Rain.
She could hold him close now, touch as she was touched. Taste as she was tasted. The pleasure filled her - the glide of his hands, the heat of his lips, the catch of his breath as they rolled together to find more.
Charred, blackened, and cooked, the morsel was brought to the mouth and chewed, contemplated, and swallowed with relish. There was no sauce or seasoning and no consideration for aesthetics or art. Yet the combination of meat and fire yielded something revolutionary. Cooked meat made man happy.
Shoveling food into his mouth. Thoughts came fluently, cogently:
She tasted like run, root beer, and something wild he couldn't place, but it didn't matter.
He wanted more.
Craved it.
They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory.
Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.
Francie loved the smell of coffee and the way it was hot. As she ate her bread and meat, she kept one hand curved about the cup enjoying its warmth. From time to time, she'd smell the bitter sweetness of it. That was better than drinking it. At the end of the meal, it went downt the sink.
Pre-Digested', that almost
Breath and caught the
He tasted like white wine and pine needles. He tasted like two years of waiting. I wanted to breathe for him, I wanted to swallow him whole. I ached with a sudden, pulsing need, an overwhelming desire I'd never felt before.
Then he strode across the room and kissed her.
It was a crazy, impulsive act, but the minute his lips touched hers he knew it was the right thing to do.
She tasted like sex and sin and forbidden fruit, and he couldn't get enough.
I steered my lips across his jawline and to his mouth. I kissed him. These were open-mouth kisses, young people's kisses, hungry and full at the same time, in love, at home.
Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past.
JUST LIKE CANDY is a delicious, decadent treat.
She bought a chocolate bar and it tasted surprisingly good - as if, without her knowing it, sitting here and eating this chocolate was the one thing she had wanted to do all day.
I had enjoyed something that did not belong to me, you see. When it was taken away, I was disappointed but not harmed.
said. I gulped down some
The kiss wove between gentle and frenzied, liquid and greedy, silken and primal, and he sucked every second of bliss he could from the forbidden pleasure.
I gulp down my pleasures, chew over my miseries.
More delicious aromas rose. He sprinkled in a
The man fed every carnal fantasy she possessed. He sat her lustful appetites before an array of the finest of delicacies, ordered them to feast, then commanded, "Don't swallow.
He smelt of the sun, as if it had seeped deep into his skin, and I found myself inhaling silently, as if he were something delicious.
Be it tart or sweet, always savor the moment. You'll not taste one just like it again.
You ate it up and you didn't ask for more, and you didn't complain.
I owned him. I made this beautiful man gasp in my ear. His pleasure was mine, and my pain was his.
A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.
A blast of whooshing pleasure swept through me and I fell over the other side, into sweet currents of relaxing little judders. The gentleman pulled away and I lay there still sprawled and used. I didn't care. I'd been indoctrinated in the ways of the flesh and my exposure to it was like a drug.
Experienced the singular pleasure of watching people he loved
I reached reverently into the bag, then took a big bite of the cornetta. It was warm and melty and tasted like every perfect thing that could ever happen to you. Italian summers. First loves. Chocolate.
It smelled delicious but tasted of jealousy.
Her perfume enveloped him as he reached for her. His hands smoothed over soft fabric before finding the warmth of her skin. She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him hungrily, greedily.
She tasted so good. Like sin. Like every dirty thought he'd ever had.
Of all the things I love to taste, sweetest is the kiss of love.
Once I surrendered to it, all I tasted was the sweetness.
Savour life's pleasures in abundance
Sweetly and subtly perfumed ... so soft it is best eaten with a spoon, a tenderness more appealing to gourmets than to those who have to pick, ship, handle and store it in constant fear of ruinous spoilage.
When he remembered, his indrawn breath pulled her scent into his mouth, coating his tongue with her taste. He swallowed that delicious flavor as his heartbeat sped.
Like pleasure, beauty should be savored and enjoyed
He'd never forgotten the sweep of her soft mouth against his, the taste of her sweetness, like strawberries, and the way she fired his insides to life.
I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual.
I deserved to find pleasure that surpassed my imagination, better than any I had experienced.
Pleasures seem solid in their pursuit; but are mere clouds in the enjoyment.
The smell of food made him realize how ravenous he was. There was hot bread and honey, a bowl of pease porridge, a skewer of roast onions and well-charred meat. He sat by the tray, pulled apart the bread with his hands, and stuffed some into his mouth.
Food that good deserved undisturbed digestion
His lips covered hers and turned potent and possessive. His mouth tasted of berries, honey, and a tang of whisky. It was a combination a woman could succumb to without a moment's hesitation - succumb to and be seduced by.
I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son.
Her mouth - ah, that lush, sweet mouth - was a garden, and I was on my back, face tipped in adoration to the sun for giving me such brilliance, delightful aromas, and the indescribable lightness of being with her.
To gnaw on is human, towards digest, divine.
To taste fully is to live fully.
Then I slid a slice of white milky dessert on my tray. I did not know its name, but it was easily the most wonderful thing I'd ever tasted. Each bite would fuel my mental well-being.
She sugared and milked
Words. I had always loved them. I collected them, like I had collected pretty stones as a child. I liked to roll words over my tongue like a lump of molten honeycomb, savouring the sweetness, the crackle, the crunch.
Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge.
Dauna inhaled a deep drag from her happy cigarette. (Yes, her cig was happy. Fuck'n euphoric.) Smoke swirled over her tongue." - Shark Fin Soup 2015
His tongue felt good, it tasted good, it was all just good. Not just good. It was better than good. I missed this. I loved kissing and, Lord, did I miss it.
I am an acquired taste.
Life is like a giant hors d'oeuvre tray in that it is to be savored.
These kissed life on the mouth - and were eaten.
Palate properly whetted, I spelunked for her clitoris, tasting Bourgogne Rouge and Maya's body.
I'd learned something ... Food had power. It could inspire, astonish, shock, excite, delight and impress. It had the power to please me ... and others. This was valuable information.
For now, bread and mead call us, appetites whetted, to witness what I have been nursing, encased in iron, licked by flame, and tended with relish.
It was a pleasure to watch them eating jalebis, always entreating the other to eat some more - the beauty of love that had mellowed in the evening of life.
Thanks for the advice, she said, and for some crazy reason she reached over and took another bite of the cookie. Then another. It didn't taste any better, but it didn't stop her. She wanted to like it. She also wanted to know what love tasted like.
It felt oily in his mind and left an aftertaste in his soul.
Delicious is a just and firm encounter of two in a thought, in a feeling.
How delicious is pleasure after torment!
Pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy.
Bitter flavours were all his palate knew. Once
I tasted too what was called the sweet of revenge - but it was transient, it expired even with the object, that provoked it.
Did we salivate for sadness, or had we only learned to enjoy what we were forced to eat?
Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day. But if we forget to savor the world, what possible reason do we have for saving it? In a way, the savoring must come first.
Totally drained he could only manage one but he made it a good one tongue included. "Delicious " he murmured.
"So depraved " Colton muttered.
"Thank you."
"Get off me."
"Mine "
"Stings."
"Boohoo.
Her kiss was gentle, and it tasted of spring rains and meadow flowers. The
This was one of the things he'd liked best about Nina- she savored everything, whether it was toffee or cold water from a stream or dried reindeer meat.
He sucked the nectar from her heart like a famished butterfly.
His throat bobbled. His kiss that time was deep and thorough, unhurried and intent.
I let the dawn creep inside me, let it grow with each movement of his lips and brush of his tongue against mine. Tears pricked beneath my closed eyes.
It was the happiest moment of my life.
His mouth was truly one of his most spectacular accomplishments. It had the gentle fullness of passion, as though he'd just made love. As though he'd just satisfied some fortuitous woman's deepest desires.
Caught between the tongue and the taste.
He had eaten his share of the dinner, but he hadn't really enjoyed it because he was thinking all the time about Turkish Delight - and there's nothing that spoils the taste of good ordinary food half so much as the memory of bad magic food.
Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt.
Food had power. It could inspire, astonish, shock, excite, delight and impress. It had the power to please me ...
There was a great satisfaction to be found in the food which we need and obtain by our own hand.
The most sumptuous experience of ingestion is in-between: remembering the last bite and looking forward to the next one.
She tasted of ambrosia. Like peaches and blossoms and honey and musk. And just a touch of salt, to make the unbearable sweetness even sweeter still.
He could sense the word resting on her tongue as a hedonist sensed a tongue resting on something else.
It takes a little time, but the pleasures of cooking begin before the pleasures of the palate, and preparing means anticipating ...
Barrage of delectable sensations within her loins. Her whole being awakened to a heightening excitement as his tongue slowly traced around the delicately hued areola, and still she watched as if nothing more than a distant
The nourishment is palatable.
I sighed and blew
Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on.
I was still much too aware of him. His scent tickled my nose, clean and fresh with a mouthwatering maleness. I inhaled deep. The sound of his heart beating drove me wild. It thumped in my mind like a sensual music. He came across as utterly delicious.
Life must be savored, not rushed. Let me savor your soft warmth."
(Eagan,"A Veil of Glass and Rain")
To be honest, I had been restless ... The sensation would rise suddenly like freight from the ocean floor
the unexpected discontent of cows in their pasture. The constant chewing of all that cud.
I swallowed him down like liquid decadence and begged for more.