Tasteless Quotes

“We have shut up long enough, and now is the time to speak out loud. Yesterday was the silence of the underdog, but today we recognize how unbearably colorless and tasteless our treadmill is. When we recognize things, we can come to comprehend them, and through that knowledge, we get insight into the reality of our needs, allowing our awareness to give birth to a clear vision to catalyze ultimate wisdom. ("The upper lip must never tremble" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

“A word that turns up in TNR’s literary pieces is “tasteless. “ They use it in the same way you might reprove a toilet joke at the dinner table or around relatives. But with them it takes on moral weight. It’s a very damaging mistake: the idea that sniffing out the tasteless is the same as taste itself. It confuses censoriousness with a faculty of judgment that links the aesthetic to the moral sense.”
― n+ 1 Magazine

“Never let the salt of your tears be tasteless in grief.”
― Munia Khan

“Now, there are a few dryadologists who could resist the opportunity to sample faerie food, the enchanted sort served at the tables of the courtly fae---I know several who have dedicated their careers to the subject and would hand over their eye teeth for the opportunity. I stopped at a stand offering toasted cheese---a very strange sort of cheese, threaded with glittering mold. It smelled divine, and the faerie merchant rolled it in crushed nuts before handing it over on a stick, but as soon as it touched my palm, it began to melt. The merchant was watching me, so I put it in my mouth, pantomiming my delight. The cheese tasted like snow and melted within seconds. I stopped next at a stand equipped with a smoking hut. The faerie handed me a delicate fillet of fish, almost perfectly clear despite the smoking. I offered it to Shadow, but he only looked at me with incomprehension in his eyes. And, indeed, when I popped it into my mouth, it too melted flavorlessly against my tongue.
I took a wandering course to the lakeshore, conscious of the need to avoid suspicion. I paused at the wine merchant, who had the largest stand. It was brighter than the others, snow piled up behind it in a wall that caught the lantern light and threw it back in a blinding glitter. I had to look down at my feet, blinking back tears, as one of the Folk pressed an ice-glass into my hand. Like the food, the wine smelled lovely, of sugared apples and cloves, but it slid eerily within the ice, more like oil than wine. Shadow kept growling at it, as he had not with the faerie food, and so I tipped it onto the snow.
Beside the wine merchant was a stand offering trinkets, frozen wildflowers that many of the Folk threaded through their hair or wove through unused buttonholes on their cloaks, as well as an array of jewels with pins in them. I could not compare them to any jewels I knew; they were mostly in shades of white and winter grey, hundreds of them, each impossibly different from the next. I selected one that I knew, without understanding how, was the precise color of the icicles that hung from the stone ledges of the Cambridge libraries in winter. But moments after I pinned it to my breast, all that remained was a patch of damp.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

“By the time Dean returned from the washroom I was furious. And then came the food. Dean's Zucchini Alfredo tasted of absolutely nothing, though he claimed he loved it, which made me more livid.
"You're lying!" I said, while choking down a taste of it. "There is absolutely no seasoning to it whatsoever. No salt, no pepper, no garlic, no fresh herbs, and it's swimming in water!"
"I like its subtle flare," he said as he continued happily slurping, not noticing that he was splashing me with "zoodles" water as he ate.
"That's right. Keep eating," I taunted. "You'll want to finish it while it's still tepid." And then Dean squeezed my knee, which is either his way of being affectionate or him telling me to shut up. I haven't figured out that odd little habit yet. I sat back and tried to relax sulk, while contemplating where the closest place to grab a quick slice of pizza may be.”
― Amy Rosen, Off Menu