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

Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.

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

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.

Life isn’t all beer and skittles, but beer and skittles, or something better of the same sort, must form a good part of every Englishman’s education.

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.

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.

Alcohol is the monarch of liquids.

Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.

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.

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

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