Alex

“Tea. I find that both settles the stomach and concentrates the mind. Wonderful drink, tea.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“She raised her hand to cut me off. "I am aware of your epistolary flirtation. Which is all well and good--as long as it's well and good. Before I ask you some questions, perhaps you would like some tea?"

"That would depend on what kind of tea you were offering."

"So diffident! Suppose it was Earl Grey."

I shook my head. "Tastes like pencil shavings."

"Lady Grey."

"I don't drink beverages named after beheaded monarchs. It seems so tacky."

"Chamomile?"

"Might as well sip butterfly wings."

"Green tea?"

"You can't be serious."

The old woman nodded her approval. "I wasn't."

"Because you know when a cow chews grass? And he or she chews and chews and chews? Well, green tea tastes like French-kissing that cow after it's done chewing all that grass."

"Would you like some mint tea?"

"Only under duress."

"English breakfast."

I clapped my hands. "Now you're talking!”
― David Levithan, Dash & Lily's Book of Dares

“In Ireland, you go to someone's house, and she asks you if you want a cup of tea. You say no, thank you, you're really just fine. She asks if you're sure. You say of course you're sure, really, you don't need a thing. Except they pronounce it ting. You don't need a ting. Well, she says then, I was going to get myself some anyway, so it would be no trouble. Ah, you say, well, if you were going to get yourself some, I wouldn't mind a spot of tea, at that, so long as it's no trouble and I can give you a hand in the kitchen. Then you go through the whole thing all over again until you both end up in the kitchen drinking tea and chatting.

In America, someone asks you if you want a cup of tea, you say no, and then you don't get any damned tea.

I liked the Irish way better.”
― C.E. Murphy, Urban Shaman

“If leeches ate peaches instead of my blood, then I would be free to drink tea in the mud!”
― Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls