As he brews, so shall he drink.

Drink does not drown care but waters it, and makes it grow faster.

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.

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

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 am sure of this: that if everybody was to drink their bottle a day, there would not be half the disorders in the world there are now.

Drinking with women is as unnatural as scolding with ’em.

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.

Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.

I have sometimes thought that the laws ought not to punish those actions of evil which are committed when the senses are steeped in intoxication.

Under the pressure of the cares and sorrows of our mortal condition, men have at all times and in all countries, called in some physical aid to their moral consolations—wine, beer, opium, brandy, or tobacco.

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.

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