Honey Quotes

“Well," said Pooh, "what I like best," and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.”
― A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“I shouldn't think even millionaires could eat anything nicer than new bread and real butter and honey for tea.”
― Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle

“Honey, no offense, but sometimes I think I could shoot you and watch you kick.”
― Raymond Carver, Where I'm Calling From: New and Selected Stories

“Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt --
O, marvelous error --
That there was a beehive here inside my heart
And the golden bees were making white combs
And sweet honey from all my failures.”
― Antonio Machado

“The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“A true queen is made not in times of prosperity, but in times of hardship.”
― Marissa Meyer, Archenemies

“What is happening to me happens to all fruits that grow ripe.
It is the honey in my veins that makes my blood thicker, and my soul quieter.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

“Here is something that Peach, one of the Casserole Queens, says about men and women and love. You know that scene in Romeo and Juliet, where Romeo is standing on the ground looking longingly at Juliet on the balcony above him? One of the most romantic moments in all of literary history? Peach says there's no way that Romeo was standing down there to profess his undying devotion. The truth, Peach says, is that Romeo was just trying to look up Juliet's skirt.”
― Deb Caletti, Honey, Baby, Sweetheart

“Dutifully, the Count put the spoon in his mouth. In an instant, there was the familiar sweetness of fresh honey—sunlit, golden, and gay. Given the time of year, the Count was expecting this first impression to be followed by a hint of lilacs from the Alexander Gardens or cherry blossoms from the Garden Ring. But as the elixir dissolved on his tongue, the Count became aware of something else entirely. Rather than the flowering trees of Central Moscow, the honey had a hint of a grassy riverbank . . . the trace of a summer breeze . . . a suggestion of a pergola . . . But most of all there was the unmistakable essence of a thousand apple trees in bloom.
"Nizhny Novgorod", he said.
And it was.”
― Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow

“She was one of those languid women, made of dark honey, smooth and sweet, and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture, a toss of the hair, a single slow whiplash of the eyes — and all the while remain as still as the centre of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract themselves the yearnings and the souls of both men and women.”
― Patrick Süskind

“We lived for honey. We swallowed a spoonful in the morning to wake us up and one at night to put us to sleep. We took it with every meal to calm the mind, give us stamina, and prevent fatal disease. We swabbed ourselves in it to disinfect cuts or heal chapped lips. It went in our baths, our skin cream, our raspberry tea and biscuits. Nothing was safe from honey...honey was the ambrosia of the gods and the shampoo of the goddesses.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

“Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?”
― Rupert Brooke, The old vicarage, Grantchester

“I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodkahoney.”
― Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase

“Love drips like honey from the hive, constant, sweet, precious, into your heart each and every moment if you let it.”
― Amy Leigh Mercree

“Dark honey from the second harvest. It's made late in the season after the nectar drought at the end of July when the bees turn to goldenrod and sunflowers instead. It's deeper and richer, it tastes like secrets.”
― Jodi Picoult, Mad Honey

“The stories shatter. Or you wear them out or leave them behind. Over time the story of the memory loses its power. Over time you become someone else. Only when the honey turns to dust are you free.”
― Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

“I love you so, honey.
I love you too, money.”
― Toba Beta, My Ancestor Was an Ancient Astronaut

“Cootamundra wattle

Meaning: I wound to heal
Acacia baileyana | New South Wales

Graceful tree with fern-like foliage and bright golden-yellow globe-shaped flower heads. Adaptable, hardy evergreen, easy to grow. Profuse flowering in winter. Heavily fragrant and sweetly scented. Produces abundant pollen, favored for feeding bees in the production of honey.”
― Holly Ringland, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

“Honey grevillea

Meaning: Foresight
Grevillea eriostachya | Inland Australia

Kaliny-kalinypa (Pitjantjatjara) is a straggly shrub with long narrow silver-green leaves that produces bright green, yellow and orange flowers. Commonly grows on red sandhills and dunes. The flowers contain thick, honey-like nectar, which can be sucked from the flowers; a favorite treat for Anangu children.”
― Holly Ringland, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

“Servers moved among the guests with trays of hors d'oeuvres and the signature cocktail, champagne with a honey infused liqueur and a delicate spiral twist of lemon.
The banquet was bursting with color and flavor- flower-sprinkled salads, savory chili roasted salmon, honey glazed ribs, just-harvested sweet corn, lush tomatoes and berries, artisan cheeses. Everything had been harvested within a fifty-mile radius of Bella Vista.
The cake was exactly what Tess had requested, a gorgeous tower of sweetness. Tess offered a gracious speech as she and Dominic cut the first slices. "I've come a long way from the city girl who subsisted on Red Bull and microwave burritos," she said. "There's quite a list of people to thank for that- my wonderful mother, my grandfather and my beautiful sister who created this place of celebration. Most of all, I'm grateful to Dominic." She turned to him, offering the first piece on a yellow china plate. "You're my heart, and there is no sweeter feeling than the love we share. Not even this cake. Wait, that might be overstating it. Everyone, be sure you taste this cake. It's one of Isabel's best recipes.”
― Susan Wiggs, The Beekeeper's Ball

“I will wait in sun-kissed valleys
As riddles swim past rivers of glass
I will capture honey air
To breathe in pathways without names.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Prince of Chandeliers

“The honey appears on an oval tin tray, craggy blocks of honeycomb oozing their sticky cargo onto the tray. We scoop the honey up with forks (I looked in vain for a spoon), trying hard not to drip on the tired pink carpet that covers the floor of the tent. The honey is not as sweet as that at home, more liquid, and its fragrance is both floral and resinous.
Perched in the tent on a mountain, surrounded by tall pines, the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of the distant water rushing over rocks like the laughter of happy children, this could well be the breakfast of dreams.”
― Nigel Slater, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

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― Little Honey

“Plump as a bee, pale gold and as thick as treacle, there is something jolly about a pot of honey. As presents go, a jar of the sticky stuff is always welcome. I twist off the lid and inhale. The scent today is of butter, toasted nuts and caramel whilst underneath lurks something dark, medicinal. A teaspoon is found and I dip in.
I like that first nip of honey, whether it smacks of fudge or chestnuts or something altogether lighter. I dream of the orange blossom promised on the label. A pot of honey is a pot of memories, almost always good ones, as soothing as a Murray Mint.”
― Nigel Slater, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

“The fruits scorch in the fierce heat. The smell of plum jam fills the kitchen. Flesh bubbles, edges blacken, plum juices burst from their skins and mingle with the honey and lemon. Twenty minutes later they emerge, collapsed in a pool of deepest purple-red. I twist the lid from a bottle of rosewater, hand-made, no label, and shake drops over the scorched fruit. A scent of rose, sweet fruit and honey. We let the fruit rest for ten minutes.
The roasted plums are served on an old tin dish, a mound of salted labneh at their side, the juices seeping into the soft, thick yoghurt like lipstick into a pantomime dame's pancake make-up. I rain a pinch of dried rose petals over the surface and offer them up. We spoon the soft fruit and labneh into our mouths, then lift the dishes to our lips to drink the last drop of rose-perfumed juice.”
― Nigel Slater, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

“He who gathers honey, should be allowed to lick his fingers." - Hanna Mina, On The Sacks”
― Alane Mason, Literature from the "Axis of Evil": Writing from Iran, Iraq, North Korea, and Other Enemy Nations

“Jae's signature beverage was a honey butter latte--- Adeena based the flavor profile on his favorite brand of Korean snacks and tweaked it until the honey butter syrup perfectly complemented her hand-roasted coffee. The honey came from Elena's uncle's aviary, and high-quality butter was something we always had in stock, so it was the perfect addition to our menu.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Death and Dinuguan

“Hey, what's that?" Jae reached past me and pulled a tub of honey butter out of the fridge.
"When Adeena was coming up with your drink, I was also playing around with how I could incorporate it into one of my bakes," I said. "It's great on the scones and with the corn and cheese muffins, but I haven't been successful with any of my experiments yet."
Jae glanced around the kitchen before grabbing a box of puffed rice cereal, several bags of marshmallows, and a container of mini mochi that I'd ordered but not used yet. I planned on incorporating them in a new dessert for Yuki's restaurant but hadn't had time to play around with them.
"What about honey butter mochi Rice Krispies Treats? My mom likes to dip fresh ddeok in honey, so I know it'll go well with the mini mochi since they're basically the same thing. But do you think it'll be too sweet with the marshmallows?"
"If I brown the butter and add a good pinch of salt, that should balance everything out," I said, picturing the flavor combinations in my head. "Or maybe some shiro miso for extra umami?”
― Mia P. Manansala, Death and Dinuguan

“I ignored their banter because my mind was still stuck on what Jae said about creating something crunchy but not too sweet with the honey butter. We didn't do deep-frying at the Brew-ha Cafe, so that was out. I could maybe incorporate our honey butter into a biscotti, but that didn't really excite me. Unless...
"Biscocho!"
"Is that like a Filipino version of eureka? You look like you've had some kind of revelation," Adeena said.
"I mean, I did have a lightbulb moment, but biscocho isn't some exclamation. It's like a budget Filipino version of biscotti, using day-old pandesal. Jae gave me the idea of trying to make a honey butter version."
Jae's eyes were practically sparkling. "Crunchy honey butter snacks?"
I laughed. "If it turns out well, then yes, we'll be able to serve crunchy honey butter snacks.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Death and Dinuguan

“California wild lilac: A flowering native California plant in the buckthorn family whose cones of delicate blossoms emit an intense, boiling-honey scent that recalls first love”
― Meg Donohue, The Memory Gardener