tea

In the liquid amber within the ivory porcelain, the initiated may touch the sweet reticence of Confucius, the piquancy of Laotse, and the ethereal aroma of Sakyamuni himself.

Her gaze wavered towards one of the books on the sales counter beside the register, a hardcover copy of Shakespeare__ Hamlet with many of the pages dog-eared and stained with coffee and tea. The store owner caught her looking at it and slid it across the counter towards her. __ou ever read Hamlet?_ he questioned.__ tried to when I was in high school,_ said Mandy, picking up the book and flipping it over to read the back. __ mean, it__ expected that everyone should like Shakespeare__ books and plays, but I just_._ her words faltered when she noticed him laughing to himself. __hat__ so funny, Sir?_ she added, slightly offended.__Oh, I__ not laughing at you, just with you,_ said the store owner. __ost people who say they love Shakespeare only pretend to love his work. You__e honest Ma__m, that__ all. You see, the reason you and so many others are put-off by reading Shakespeare is because reading his words on paper, and seeing his words in action, in a play as they were meant to be seen, are two separate things_ and if you can find a way to relate his plays to yourself, you__l enjoy them so much more because you__l feel connected to them. Take Hamlet for example _ Hamlet himself is grieving over a loss in his life, and everyone is telling him to move on but no matter how hard he tries to, in the end all he can do is to get even with the ones who betrayed him.___Wow, when you put it that way_ sure, I think I__l buy a copy just to try reading, why not?_ Mandy replied with a smile.

Zoe did what civilized people do when they freak out: she drank tea. She had walked from her little bungalow to Coffee & Tea. It was always filled with the well-educated, the complicated, the people who read books with captivating titles. A perfect place to ignore and be ignored. She found the anonymity delicious.

One is reminded in this connection of a story concerning Kobori-Enshiu. Enshiu was complimented by his disciples on the admirable taste he had displayed in the choice of his [art] collection. Said they, "Each piece is such that no one could help admiring. It shows that you had better taste than had Rikiu, for his collection could only be appreciated by one beholder in a thousand." Sorrowfully Enshiu replied: "This only proves how commonplace I am. The great Rikiu dared to love only those objects which personally appealed to him, whereas I unconsciously cater to the taste of the majority. Verily, Rikiu was one in a thousand among tea-masters.

In Japan, a number of time-honored everyday activities (such as making tea, arranging flowers, and writing) have traditionally been deeply examined by their proponents. Students study how to make tea, perform martial arts, or write with a brush in the most skillful way possible to express themselves with maximum efficiency and minimum strain. Through this efficient, adroit, and creative performance, they arrive at art. But if they continue to delve even more deeply into their art, they discover principles that are truly universal, principles relating to life itself. Then, the art of brush writing becomes shodo__he __ay of the brush___hile the art of arranging flowers is elevated to the status of kado__he __ay of flowers._ Through these Ways or Do forms, the Japanese have sought to realize the Way of living itself. They have approached the universal through the particular.

Teaism is a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence. It inculcates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity, the romanticism of the social order. It is essentially a worship of the Imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life.

Clarity in my cup. Transparency of my soul. Lucidity of myself. Elixir of the ages. Tea makes us all sages.

Tea followers were among the earliest converts to the Christian faith. Takayama Ukon, a daimyo turned ardent evangelist, was a disciple of Sen no Rikyu, the preeminent tea master of all time. After Christianity had been banned - Takayama was exiled to the Philippines - underground Christians cherished the tea ceremony as the only opportunity to assemble without arousing suspicion on the part of the authorities. It proved to be a fitting substitute for Holy Communion; even in its Zen context the rite symbolized the giving of oneself. For Christians liable to detection and torture because of their outlawed faith, it was a solemn reminder that Christ had willingly given his life for them. Some of the cups were boldly inscribed with a cross. So it is little wonder that some Japanese Christians have envisioned their Lord in the graceful robe of a Zen tea master.

When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things. Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?

Fortune-teller tea. Give it a sip!"The liquid was pink and smelled of strawberries, but when Maddie drank it, the flavor was deep and a little bitter, followed by a sudden burst of sweetness.Her father returned. "Well?" he asked."It started out as black licorice and then melted into butterscotch," she said."Oh, my girl, the tea is telling you that this is the year to keep your ear to the ground and listen for surprises. Change is coming!"Maddie's stomach was full of thoughts and her head full of butterflies. She checked her watch again. She couldn't wait for it all to begin.

Why, the club was just the quietest place in the world, a place where a woman could run in to brush her hair and wash her hands, and change her library book, and have a cup of tea.

Surely a pretty woman never looks prettier than when making tea.

Tea was the great arbiter of many things, and for Pastaddams, his morning cup meant the difference between expressing rational thought and succumbing to the ineptitude that occupied recesses of his dormant mind. Merely having the cup in his hand facilitated the flow of ideas, and upon tea, the great nourishment of the tailor__ life, rested all his claims to rational dependence.

No one needs Independence. We all just need tea and air conditioners.

I like it subdued and tepid, with far to much milk

The only good thing about that decision, Gatt, is that I'll get tea before you.

In Britain, a cup of tea is the answer to every problem.Fallen off your bicycle? Nice cup of tea.Your house has been destroyed by a meteorite? Nice cup of tea and a biscuit.Your entire family has been eaten by a Tyrannosaurus Rex that has travelled through a space/time portal? Nice cup of tea and a piece of cake. Possibly a savoury option would be welcome here too, for example a Scotch egg or a sausage roll.

Arthur blinked at the screens and felt he was missing something important. Suddenly he realized what it was."Is there any tea on this spaceship?" he asked.