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.

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

Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need—a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.

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

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.

Sobriety diminishes, discriminates, and says no; drunkenness expands, unites, and says yes.

Sex and drugs and rock and roll.

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.

Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.

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

People who’ve drunk neat wine don’t care a damn.

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