Life isn’t all beer and skittles, but beer and skittles, or something better of the same sort, must form a good part of every Englishman’s education.

Sex and drugs and rock and roll.

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

A true German can’t stand the French, / Yet willingly he drinks their wines.

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

I mean, why on earth (outside sickness and hangovers) aren’t people continually drunk? I want ecstasy of the mind all the time.

The pleasure we hold in esteem for the course of our lives ought to have a greater share of our time dedicated to it; we should refuse no occasion nor omit any opportunity of drinking, and always have it in our minds.

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.

To live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient for human beings; we need to transcend, transport, escape; we need meaning, understanding, and explanation.

A man who exposes himself when he is intoxicated has not the art of getting drunk.

The drunken man is a living corpse.

Alcohol is the monarch of liquids.

I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too.