Preacher who says that the sweet life is made from bitter parts is more or less telling those who have come to mourn the teenage suicide that this is just one bitter ingredient in the sweet thing foreordained by the benevolent god. To which I want to shake my fist and say: There is not one sweet thing about it. It is only bitter.
I criticized the whole American songwriting industry and the pop side of it and I was bitter about it. And I stepped back and thought 'Why are you bitter? You can't just stand there like every other indie musician and criticize this so-called 'generic' music when you're not doing anything to challenge that.'
Marina and the Diamonds
Poverty is a bitter thing; but it is not as bitter as the existence of restless vacuity and physical, moral, and intellectual flabbiness, to which those doom themselves who elect to spend all their years in that vainest of all vain pursuits-the pursuit of mere pleasure as a sufficient end in itself.
I am of course a skeptic about the divinity of Christ and a scorner of the notion that there is a God who cares about how we are or what we do. ... Religious skeptics often become very bitter towards the end, as did Mark Twain. ... I know why I will become bitter. I will finally realize that I have had it right all along: that I will not see God, that there is no heaven or Judgement Day.
I've learned that you cannot be bitter and happy. You cannot be pitiful and powerful at the same time, you have to choose one of them. If you've had a lot of people that have hurt you, then you won't help yourself by being bitter, resentful and pitiful about it. Forgiveness is freedom, and forgiveness is power.
The kindnesses ... I never forget them. And so they keep one from becoming bitter. They encourage you to be as strong, as volatile as necessary to make a well world. Those people who gave me so much, and still give me so much, have a passion about them. And they encourage the passion in me. I'm very blessed that I have a healthy temper. I can become quite angry and burning in anger, but I have never been bitter. Bitterness is a corrosive, terrible acid. It just eats you and makes you sick.
Jeffrey M. Elliot
DO YOU EVER WONDER WHY WE PLAY THESE GAMES?* DOES THERE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SOMEBODY TO BLAME? DON'T LIKE WALKING ON THE EDGE OF THIS KNIFE. THINGS ARE SO BAD THAT YOU GOT TO DO THEM TWICE AIN'T THAT RIGHT? DO YOU EVER GET LONELY GOIN' AGAINST THE GRAIN? YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I FEEL THE SAME WE WERE BURNING HOTTER THAN THE FALLEN ANGLES TONIGHT BUT IT'LL ALL BE OVER BY THE MORNING LIGHT BE BITTER LIKE THE BLUES OR SWEETER THAN A SUGAR CANE BE BITTER LIKE THE BLUES OR SWEETER THAN A SUGAR CANE OH I REMEMBER THE DAY THAT YOU WALKED ON BY I WENT CRAZY, OUT OF MY MIND NEVER COULD FIND THE STONES TO APOLOGIZE HOPE THAT YOU KNOW WHEN I LOOK YOU STRAIGHT IN THE EYE DO YOU EVER GET LONESOME WITH WHATS HIS NAME? I'LL BE BACK THIS WAY AGAIN YOU WERE BURNING HOTTER THAN THE FALLEN ANGELS THAT NIGHT AND IT WAS ALL OVER BY THE MORNING LIGHT IT WAS BITTER LIKE THE BLUES BUT IT WAS SWEETER THAN A SUGAR CANE IT WAS BITTER LIKE THE BLUES BUT IT WAS SWEETER THAN A SUGAR CANE TURNS OUT THE THIEVES ARE NOT PRINCES YOU DON'T GET A BLACK ROSE AND A DIAMOND RING STARVIN' WOLVES DONT TREAT YOU RIGHT. YOU CAN'T DO THAT YOURSELF ANY GIVEN NIGHT DO YOU EVER GET LONELY LIVIN OUT OF RANGE? MAYBE SOMEDAY WE CAN CHANGE WE WERE BURNING HOTTER THAN THE FALLEN ANGELS TONIGHT AND IT'LL ALL BE OVER BY THE MORNING LIGHT WHETHER ITS BITTER LIKE THE BLUES OR SWEETER THAN A SUGAR CANE
Fine food is poison. It can be as bitter as antimony and bitter almonds and as repulsive as swallowing live toads. Like the poison the emperor took every day to stop himself being poisoned, fine food must be taken daily until the system becomes immune to its ravages and the taste buds beaten and abused to the point where they not only accept but savour every vile concoction under the sun.
Lisa St. Aubin de TerÃ¡n
Count up the almonds, Count what was bitter and kept you waking, Count me in too: I sought your eye when you glanced up and no one would see you, I spun that secret thread Where the dew you mused on Slid down to pitchers Tended by a word that reached no one's heart. There you first fully entered the name that is yours, you stepped to yourself on steady feet, the hammers swung free in the belfry of your silence, things overheard thrust through to you, what's dead put it's arm around you too, and the three of you walked through the evening. Render me bitter. Number me among the almonds
Lastly, tea--unless one is drinking it in the Russian style--should be drunk WITHOUT SUGAR. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.
You taste injustice, even if it's fictional, really taste it, it has a way of doing that. Sometimes, you can never put the shoe on the other foot. We can't go back in time and know what it was like to be a black person then. Even today, when things are supposed to be so much better, not one of you can understand what it's like to be black, to live with the knowledge of what happened to your ancestry and still face injustice. But that book makes us taste it and, reading it, we know how bitter that taste is and we know we don't like it. But that bitter wakes you up, and when you wake up, you open your mind to things in this world, you make yourself think. Then you'll decide you don't like the taste of injustice, not for you and not for anyone, and you'll understand that even though all the battles can't be won, that doesn't mean you won't fight.
Love has an extreme capacity to offer everything we need but not without extreme pain. Anyone who tastes the sweet fruit -joy of love, deserves to taste the bitter fruit -pain of separation. Nobody should taste the bitter before the sweet. It means not being able to feel the pain of separation before enjoying the joy of love.
By convention sweet is sweet, by convention bitter is bitter, by convention hot is hot, by convention cold is cold, by convention colour is colour. But in reality there are atoms and the void. That is, the objects of sense are supposed to be real and it is customary to regard them as such, but in truth they are not. Only the atoms and the void are real.
Death is only dreadful for those who live in dread and fear of it. Death is not wild and terrible, if only we can be still and hold fast to God's Word. Death is not bitter, if we have not become bitter ourselves. Death is grace, the greatest gift of grace that God gives to people who believe in him. Death is mild, death is sweet and gentle; it beckons to us with heavenly power, if only we realize that it is the gateway to our homeland, the tabernacle of joy, the everlasting kingdom of peace. How do we know that dying is so dreadful? Who knows whether, in our human fear and anguish we are only shivering and shuddering at the most glorious, heavenly, blessed event in the world? Death is hell and night and cold, if it is not transformed by our faith. But that is just what is so marvelous, that we can transform death.