Although they probably know that some children were used and some children are used as miners, most adults are ignorant of the chocolate industry’s use of minors.

One can hardly do anything productive when one knows there is cake in the fridge.

The smile on his face said, pure and simple, those honey cakes came with a price. And his price was answers.

Tiffany knew what the problem was immediately. She'd seen it before, atbirthday parties. Her brother was suffering from tragic sweetdeprivation. Yes, he was surrounded by sweets. But the moment he took anysweet at all, said his sugar-addled brain, that meant he was not takingall the rest. And there were so many sweets he'd never be able to eatthem all. It was too much to cope with. The only solution was to burstinto tears.

As long as you're in the food business, why not make sweets?

Sex is too sweet to speak about, you must only do it

When i was a child, i liked tasting any candy i happened to see, but as i grew older, i realized those are a great meal to the worms in my innards. Will you shun old habits or nay? That's the question.

A life without sweets is not much worth living.

To a hungry person, every bitter food is sweet. When the preferable is not available, the available becomes preferable!

Everything that has calories in my kitchen is my favorite

The longing for sweets is really a yearning for love or "sweetness.

Candy always tastes better when the expectations are high.

Good food, fresh water, and an occasional sweet and someone to care for. That's what everyone should have. A simplistic and unrealistic view I knew, but it soothed me.

Sin stared at him as he chewed, cream smeared across his mouth and smudged on the other side of it. It shouldn't have been possible to glare and eat like a child at the same time, but somehow Sin pulled it off.

It was the best first kiss in the history of first kisses. It was as sweet as sugar. And it was warm, as warm as pie. The whole world opened up and I fell inside. I don't know where I was, but I didn't care. I didn't care because the only person who mattered was there with me.

So on Christmas morning I was up at five o'clock, making the fire as bright as a furnace, baking minc'd pies and boiling plum puddings the size of Medici cannonballs, and setting three sides of roast beef to turn on the spits. Soon I breathed again that steam that tells the soul it is Christmas, and all the year' work done, and time for feasting; the smell of oranges, sugarplums and cloves, all mingled with roasting meats.