Thanks be to God: since my leaving drinking of wine, I do find myself much better and do mind my business better, and do spend less money, and less time lost in idle company.

If you were to ask me if I’d ever had the bad luck to miss my daily cocktail, I’d have to say that I doubt it; where certain things are concerned, I plan ahead.

There are two things that will be believed of any man whatsoever, and one of them is that he has taken to drink.

That which the sober man keeps in his breast, the drunken man lets out at the lips. Astute people, when they want to ascertain a man’s true character, make him drunk.

Whoever gulps down wine as a horse gulps down water is called a Scythian.

My advice to people today is as follows: if you take the game of life seriously, if you take your nervous system seriously, if you take your sense organs seriously, if you take the energy process seriously, you must turn on, tune in, and drop out.

Sex and drugs and rock and roll.

Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.

Drugs, cataplasms, and whiskey are stupid substitutes for the dignity and potency of divine mind and its efficacy to heal.

As far as I can see, the history of experimental art in the twentieth century is intimately bound up with the experience of intoxification.

As he brews, so shall he drink.

Drink today and drown all sorrow; / You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow.

An old man is twice a child, and so is a drunken man.