Alcohol is the monarch of liquids.

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.

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.

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

As he brews, so shall he drink.

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

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.

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.

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

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

Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.

Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.

To live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient for human beings; we need to transcend, transport, escape; we need meaning, understanding, and explanation.