“He took a sip of my father’s weak coffee and spit it back into the mug. "This shit’s like making love in a canoe.""Excuse me?""It’s fucking near water.”

“She took a sip of the coffee and then said, “Manna. Thank you, Sir.”“Now I really do know how to punish you.”She curled both hands around the mug. “You wouldn’t take away my coffee!”“Only if I feared for my life,” he said, carrying food to the table.”

“Fuck me", Bat gasped, "It’s like an angel shat ice cream coffee rainbows in my mouth.”

“If coffee meant vagina, I’d ask you if you wanted cream in your coffee. But it doesn’t mean that, so I’ll just sit here and continue sipping my mug full of steaming vagina.”

“Don’t spit down my back and tell me it’s raining.”

“She sits in her usual ample armchair, with piles of books and unopened magazines around her. She sips cautiously from the mug of weak herb tea which is now her substitute for coffee. At one time she thought that she could not live without coffee, but it turned out that it is really the warm large mug she wants in her hands, that is the aid to thought or whatever it is she practices through the procession of hours, or of days.”