Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.

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

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

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.

As he brews, so shall he drink.

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.

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.

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

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.

An old man is twice a child, and so is a drunken man.

Sex and drugs and rock and roll.