Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“I miss your silent stature, your avoided days of disaster, your present state of distress.
I’m cinnamon, cloves and fire, you are the rested cedarwood of desire.”
― Jamie Weise

“For me,
you are fresh water
that falls from trees
when it has stopped raining. For me,
you are cinnamon that lingers
on the tongue and gives
bitter words
sweetening.
For me, you are the scent of
violins and vision
of valleys
smiling.
And still,
for me, your loveliness never ends.
It traverses
the world
and finds its
way back to me.
Only
me.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?”
― Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days

“You ask
if I will write a poem
I could,
I suppose
write the most
splendiferous
one of all

but not
right
now
not when

your hands
are brewing
warm
cinnamon tea
across my skin

not when I’m
trying to imagine
what might happen
if you began
flowering
kisses
upon
me

My dear,
how can
I write
a poem
when I’m already
inside one?”
― Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

“You have to be a wonderful actress or actor to survive in this world.”
― V.C. Andrews

“There's something about growing up, about being in society and mixing with real people that restricts your imaginative powers.”
― V.C. Andrews

“My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing
Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep.
“I love you,� I murmured against his lips.
I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I
grabbed my guitar case and I left.
On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt
of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon.”
― Petra March, A Veil of Glass and Rain

“Her freckles looked as if someone had blown cinnamon across her nose and high cheekbones.”
― Jo Ann Brown, An Amish Match

“Cinnamon, I realized, is the flavor equivalent of being hugged by your grandmother.”
― Mark Schatzker, The Dorito Effect: The Surprising New Truth About Food and Flavor

“The timer dinged a few minutes later and Cinnamon sucked in her breath.

"You want me to check?" I asked.

"I'll do it."

I stood up and followed her into the bathroom.

Cinnamon gasped and said,"They're both positive!"

"What?" I grabbed the sticks from her hand and read them. I glared at her.

She chuckled. "You should have seen your face.”
― Barbra Annino, Tiger's Eye

“His voice was chipper. Cinnamon hated chipper. She wrapped Chipper up in duct tape, pounded nails into it and used it to beat the crap out of Perky.”
― Barbra Annino, Opal Fire

“Ho provato molto seriamente a non pensare a lui. Ho sepolto il suo ricordo sotto i baci, le carezze e le voci di altri ragazzi ma ora tutto ciò che sento, provo e avverto sulla pelle è lui e il suo profumo di cannella.”
― Petra March, Amico mio irresistibile

“An orange day, a happy day, a brand-new day in the secret language that only the three of us seemed to understand.
"Mmmmm," Daddy said, taking a bite of his roll. "Orange wakes you up, but cinnamon makes you remember.”
― Judith Fertig, The Cake Therapist

“I'm pretty sure you spice your cookies with something illegal.

Cinnamon is not a controlled substance.”
― Kiersten White, My True Love Gave to Me: Twelve Holiday Stories

“once a cheater always a repeater”
― melissa edwards

“Stature comes from your demeanor, your self confidence.”
― V.C. Andrews, Cinnamon

“Un Petit Phenix is born as Lillian's is resurrected, even more beautiful than before, with new wallpaper, new windows, and repaired chairs. It is a cinnamon macaron, pressed together with dark chili chocolate ganache. The result is surprisingly delicious- spicy, sweet, lingering long in your mouth, like a bowl of Aztec hot chocolate. It tastes best with a shot of the blackest coffee.”
― Hannah Tunnicliffe, The Color of Tea

“Break the cinnamon in half.'

The cinnamon stick was light, curled around itself like a brittle roll of papyrus. Not a stick at all, Lillian remembered as she look closer, but bark, the meeting place between inside and out. It crackled as she broke it, releasing a spiciness, part heat, part sweet, that pricked her eyes and nose, and made her tongue tingle without even tasting it.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The School of Essential Ingredients

“Now we add the cinnamon," I said. "Sticks, not powder; broken in half. Three or four should do the trick-" The summery scent had turned autumnal; bonfires and Halloween. Cinnamon pancakes cooked outside. Mulled wine and burnt sugar.”
― Joanne Harris, Peaches for Father Francis

“Sarah's first introduction was the signature sugardoodle. Big, billowy, and buttery, sparkling with a generous coating of sugar crystals and cinnamon, it has the perfect savory-sweet balance that comes from creamed butter and sugar. When she created it, the bakery's cookie menu was dominated by chocolaty options. She was looking to add something with a different flavor profile. Then, for the 2013 holiday season, she was playing with recipe ideas that would evoke nostalgia and home baking and struck upon the ginger spice cookie, a soft, sweet molasses number with the bite of ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It was so popular it stuck around beyond the holidays and became a year-round best seller. Then came the killer red velvet. Rich from cocoa, savory from a cream-cheese center, and crunchy from its sugar-dusted top, it gives red velvet lovers a whole new creation to die for.”
― Amy Thomas, Brooklyn in Love: A Delicious Memoir of Food, Family, and Finding Yourself

“I was beginning to taste it. Something bitter, but warm.
A flavor that woke me up and let me see things clearly. A flavor that made me feel safe, so I could let those things go. A flavor that held my hand and walked me across to the other side of loss, and assured me that one day, I would be just fine. A flavor for a change of heart- part grief, part hope.
Suddenly, I knew what that flavor would be. I padded down to the kitchen and cut a slice of sour cream coffee cake with a spicy underground river coursing through its center, left over from an order that had not been picked up today.
One bite and I was sure. A familiar flavor that now seemed utterly fresh and custom-made for me.
Cinnamon.
The comfort of sweet cinnamon. It always worked. I felt better. Lighter. Not quite "everything is going to be all right," but getting there. One step at a time.”
― Judith Fertig, The Cake Therapist

“They started on the ice creams: cinnamon, crème fraîche, and Damson plum.
"Ever had Damson plum ice cream?"
"Nope. Nice color." The plum ice cream was vanilla marbled with a rich winery purple.
"By 'cinnamon,' do they mean cinnamon the spice?"
"As opposed to what?"
"The candy. Try it. Plus, it's pink."
"Oh.”
― Michelle Wildgen, Bread and Butter

“I got up from the table and stepped to the cabinet above Mom's mixer, absently brushing off a layer of dust as I reached up. I found the jar I needed, musing that it was probably years old and tasteless---but still worth a try.
"What are you doing?"
"Hang on a sec." I clenched the jar in my fist and shook the spice into my hand, pinching a bit across his lasagna.
"What's that?"
"Trust me, it's just what it needs---a touch of earth and sweet to temper the tomato's bite. With fresh tomatoes you need less as summer approaches and they develop their own sugars. Taste it."
He took a bite. "It's fantastic. What'd you add?"
"Cinnamon." He didn't recognize it?
"Amazing. I'll have to tell Mary."
"Tell her a touch of milk tempers the acidity as well."
"Interesting.”
― Katherine Reay, Lizzy and Jane

“I display the Fireball between my teeth, pulling my lips into a tingly, victorious smile.
Liam looks disappointed.
Georgia looks pleased.
Too pleased
Did she perform some act of skullduggery for me?
The thought sends a funny warmth through my chest and into my belly.
Or maybe
that's just the cinnamon.”
― Rebecca Caprara, Worst-Case Collin