Read through the most famous quotes by topic #delicate
She was born as music–a single, mellow note suspended in the air. Suspended as if strung from nothing, held into possibilities of sound. Her clear note hung a lone, sweet tone in the midst of us all; as silence captured its ache and tenderly, reluctantly released it, dipped it lower into a breath of melancholy only to lift again to its earlier height both rich and real and complete–one solitary note swaying into the early dawn. Emily arrived in the cold, grey hours of the newborn year, between the breathing dark and the pearl, winter light. A child of the dawn, before dawn broke. ↗
She was so delicate that, while we sat beneath the linden branches, a leaf would fall and drift down and touch her skin, and it would leave a bruise. So as we sat in the afternoon hour, beneath that fragrant linden bower, I had to chase all of the leafs that fell away. ↗
I took the feeling of knowing Alex was everywhere for granted, and he’d mellowed in my mind like an old dream, sometimes mellifluous, sometimes enigmatic, always present but warbled and fuzzy. But here, standing beneath the wide-columned berth, the air around me had the vague, sweet spice of mystery, of him. I inhaled slowly, purposely, deeply, the ache of needing him seeping like a dark frost through me. I’d forgotten the ache, so much like the wisps of a snuffed out flame, its invisible pungence hovering, reminding me that my blood was like ice though my fingers lost their sense of touch, reminding me of the trembling cold beneath my skin when I’d forgotten I had skin and I was too numb to realize I was shivering in the dark–a shapeless, frozen being. And all of a sudden it burst upon me, an open flame rendering my skin, my veins, its heat piercing my fingers and thighs. It was all I could manage to purpose myself to breathe, my fingers to feel, my skin to find its shape. The dark was gone. He was standing before me, his face cocked in a half-grin, his eyes crinkling in exhilaration. But I was trembling, resolved but cocooned in my sensibilities like a pillar of salt, speechless, unable to move. ↗
I think you have to be careful with spices. Kids' palates can be very delicate, and they might not like things overspiced. In my cookbooks for kids, I do a milder version of my signature spice blend, Emeril's Essence, called Baby Bam, which has no cayenne pepper. ↗
