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

Drunkenness is the very sepulcher / Of man’s wit and his discretion.

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.

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.

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.

The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge. And I knew we’d get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. Probably at the next gas station.

As he brews, so shall he drink.

There was a great deal of drinking among us but little drunkenness. We all seemed to feel that Prohibition was a personal affront and that we had a moral duty to undermine it.

Moderation in all things.

Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.

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

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