Gilmore Coffee Quotes

But first, coffee.

lost-in-your-favorite-book good, sun-on-your-face good, the-perfect-cup-of–coffee good.

When her favorite coffee place on the corner was closed for a week, she could barely function. And it wasn’t for lack of caffeine. There was no shortage of coffee shops in the city, but none of them were hers. She’d been in a bad mood all week.

Books provide a handy shorthand when Rory’s mostly MIA father, Christopher, is first introduced to viewers. Christopher’s offer to buy Rory the Compact Oxford English Dictionary she covets is sincere; his lack of ability to follow through on his good intentions is Christopher in a nutshell.

I’ll be nearby calling the plays on comms,’ Gilmore said. ‘Anna will monitor chatter and pilot the drone. Zeus ought to give us an advantage. Mo’s re-tasking a satellite as we speak.’ Wells seemed surprised. ‘He can do that?’ ‘Please, look who you’re talking to,’ Mo said, sipping on a mug of coffee. He spat it out into the cup. ‘Scheisse! I’ve gotta stop doing that.

I mean…sure, my guilty conscience poked at me a few times, but the more I went, the easier it got. America’s greatest serial killers probably lived by this same mantra. But so be it. Give me complimentary coffee or give me death. The CCC had become my Luke’s Diner. I was Lorelai Gilmore waltzing in every day, and that little, nonverbal, automated coffee machine was the grumpy diner owner that I was slowly falling in love with. And now I’ve met Betty, the baker of the goods and direct cause of my poor diet these past few weeks. But love is a wild creature. You can’t contain it or control it. You can’t break it and tell it no. It’s a charging animal that you must accept as your destiny. That is how I feel about the Tire Depot CCC: true, unadulterated love.

She was just here to serve coffee and ideally not die of a stress-induced heart attack at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.

Maybe a cup of coffee would help. He was dumber than the damn goats. But he climbed in his truck and headed into town anyway.

Hazel was getting lost-in-your-favorite-book good, sun-on-your-face good, the-perfect-cup-of–coffee good.

I knew it was a done deal when that cranky old toad set his coffee down and fixed his hard gray eyes on the younger woman. He was susceptible to that sweet laugh of hers, too. I just knew it.

She was a study in contradiction. Competent, but lost at the same time. Quick to smile, but also quick to frown, every emotion clear in her eyes. Dark brown eyes, nearly black, the same as his coffee order.

Hazel was everything. Hazel was getting lost-in-your-favorite-book good, sun-on-your-face good, the-perfect-cup-of–coffee good.