Nick drank the coffee, the coffee according to Hopkins. The coffee was bitter. Nick laughed. It made a good ending to the story. His mind was starting to work. He knew he could choke it because he was tired enough. He spilled the coffee out of the pot and shook the grounds loose into the fire. He lit a cigarette and went inside the tent. He took off his shoes and trousers, sitting on the blankets, rolled the shoes up inside the trousers for a pillow and got in between the blankets.
Out through the front of the tent he watched the glow of the fire when the night wind blew on it. It was a quiet night. The swamp was perfectly quiet. Nick stretched under the blanket comfortably. A mosquito hummed close to his ear. Nick sat up and lit a match. The mosquito was on the canvas, over his head. Nick moved the match quickly up to it. The mosquito made a satisfactory hiss in the flame. The match went out. Nick lay down again under the blankets. He turned on his side and shut his eyes. He was sleepy. He felt sleep coming. He curled up under the blanket and went to sleep.
Tag: sleep coffee bliss big-two-hearted-river
You need some coffee, don't you?"
"Yes, I've only had a gallon.
Tag: need coffee you only yes gallon some
I USED TO
make love.
Now I
Make coffee.
A guy's gotta live, you know, gotta make his way and find his meaning in life and love, and to do that he needs coffee, he needs coffee and coffee and coffee.
Libba BrayTag: coffee
I decline the coffee. I don't drink it, because no matter how much sugar I put into it, it still tastes like ass-water to me. Maybe it's because my taste buds are so desensitized to sweet that anything not comprised of at least ninety percent sugar tastes wrong
Katja MillayTag: coffee sugar taste-buds ass-water
They were learning that New York had another life, too — subterranean, like almost everything that was human in the city — a life of writers meeting in restaurants at lunchtime or in coffee houses after business hours to talk of work just started or magazines unpublished, and even to lay modest plans for the future. Modestly they were beginning to write poems worth the trouble of reading to their friends over coffee cups. Modestly they were rebelling once more.
Malcolm CowleyTag: poetry writers future-plans conversation rebellion new-york coffee modest lost-generation
They can kill the Kennedys. Why can't they make a cup of coffee that tastes good?
John SwartzwelderWe drank our coffee the Russian way. That is to say we had vodka before it and vodka afterwards.
Philip SingtonThe sense of love should not like coffee, which only gives pleasure to the enjoy. But it must be like oranges which not only give pleasure but also freshness.
IsraTag: love pleasure coffee freshness oranges sense-of-love
Only an idiot would rely on the energy of a bean or a leaf to stay awake throughout the day.
Tahereh MafiTag: tea coffee destroy-me warner
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