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.

Modern life is often a mechanical oppression, and liquor is the only mechanical relief.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

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.

Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.

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