65 Quotes by Amy E. Reichert

She dug into the already melting ice cream and scooped out a dripping spoonful. The hot and cold mixed in her mouth, chocolate and vanilla, sweet and a touch of bitter from the dark chocolate. The perfect balance of opposites.

While Lou loved the raucous music, loud voices, and chaotic movement of a dinner rush, the calm of prep-work soothed her soul and gave her time to think. Some people did downward dog, some burned incense in front of a Buddha statue, some prayed the rosary; Lou chopped the vegetables into tiny squares, filleted fish, and reduced veal stock. Her meditation smelled better, and even if she didn't find a solution, at least she got to eat.

The cocktails were fizzy and pink toward the top, then became a dark red at the bottom of the glass."What's in this thing?" murmured MJ."I call it a First Kiss," Doyle said."Why?"Doyle's mouth twitched into a saucy grin."Because it's sweet and simple with the first sip. But each sip after becomes more intense and irresistible.

As he walked past the newsstand, he couldn't help sniffing the air, searching for hints of bacon, coconut, and vanilla. Combined with John's declaration that he needed to get laid, he couldn't get that smell off his mind, or her adorable freckles, or the broken expression on her face as she blew past him on the sidewalk. Such a marvelous creature deserved someone who understood her talents- someone like him, perhaps.

Delight is indeed born in the heart. It sometimes also depends on its surroundings.

Before the downpour, Al had thought Lou looked alluring in her pale pink T-shirt and simple flowered skirt. Her soft brown waves bounced around her shoulders with the humidity. She was simply beautiful. But with the addition of water, she evolved into a siren. Her thin cotton clothes clung to every curve. She slicked her hair away from her face, as if emerging from an enchanted lake.

His smile reminded her of Bruce, the friendly shark from Finding Nemo- he'd be your friend until he smelled blood; then you better run for your life. Tonight, MJ was the fresh meat.

He touched the dangling branches, the spring bright leaves hiding baby green apples, a first glimpse at the harvest to come. Everything around him was new and fresh with so much growing left to do. Yet with all the new growth, the trees had aged bark, wrinkled and scarred where branches had been trimmed off. He could almost feel the roots winding deeper into the earth, stretching themselves ever farther while their crowns reached to the sun.

Do not hide who you are. These are a nurturer's hands. Cooking is hard and sometimes painful work, but you do it to share your gift with us. Your cooking improves our lives. Don't ever be ashamed of who you are.