Best 1841 quotes in «drinking quotes» category

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    I'm more than a few neurons shy of a synapse right now, and it feels absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.

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    I need a drink. Now.” After tossing—fine, throwing—my purse and keys on the couch, I march straight into the kitchen. No more delays; it's time to forget tonight. It’s been yet another night like all the other first dates that never meet a second one. When you begin to lose count, that's when it's really time for a drink. Adrian stands there, leaning against the counter in an unbuttoned dress shirt and dark wash jeans. He glances at me as I walk in. “How was your date?” he asks, taking a swig of his scotch. I brush past him on my mission, opening the cupboard and moving a couple bottles around. I reiterate, “I need alcohol.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him hiding a smile before he says, “That bad?” My face twitches as I ignore his line of questioning. It is more like a statement he wants me to clarify, even though he already knows the answer. Instead, I ask, “I have vodka left, don't I?” I stand on my tiptoes in hopes of spotting something in the very back. Nothing. He waltzes over and looks with me, his chin almost touching my shoulder. “I think you polished that one off after last week's date.” His voice is low right next to my ear, very nearly causing a shiver.

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    I’m only doing one more,” Ruby said, scrolling through her phone. “Nobody likes a day-drunk hussie.” “Hey, give yourself some credit. You’ll be a really cute day- drunk hussie.

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    Inside my soul a treasure is buried. The key is mine and only mine. How right you are, you drunken monster! I know: the truth is in the wine. ("The Unknown Lady")

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    Intoxication, like sexual euphoria, is the privilege of the human animal.

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    In every glass of water we drink there are molecules once urinated by Genghis Khan

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    In wine was truth, perhaps, but in whisky, the way Hoffman sluiced it down, was an army of imaginary rats climbing your legs.

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    I peer through the spectral, polluted, nicotine-sodden windows of my sock at these old lollopers in their kiddie gear. Go home, I say. Go home, lie down, and eat lots of potatoes. I had three handjobs yesterday. None was easy. Sometimes you really have to buckle down to it, as you do with all forms of exercise. It's simply a question of willpower. Anyone who's got the balls to stand there and tell me that a handjob isn't exercise just doesn't know what he's talking about. I almost had a heart-attack during number three. I take all kinds of other exercise too. I walk up and down the stairs. I climb into cabs and restaurant booths. I hike to the Butcher's Arms and the London Apprentice. I cough a lot. I throw up pretty frequently, which really takes it out of you. I sneeze, and hit the tub and the can. I get in and out of bed, often several times a day.

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    I shook myself out of these dreams. There were places where my thoughts must not go; and as I then reflected how few places were left where they could now go without incurring pain or guilt I decided that I needed some more whisky.

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    Is it that we pretend to a reformation? Truly, no: but it may be we are more addicted to Venus than our fathers were. They are two exercises that thwart and hinder one another in their vigor. Lechery weakens our stomach on the one side; and on the other sobriety renders us more spruce and amorous for the exercise of love.

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    Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending Up on the roof with a school girl crush Drinking beer out of plastic cups You say you fancy me not fancy stuff. All at once this is enough.

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    It is better to die of drink then to die of thirst.

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    I mostly drink clear booze because the rest of it looks it's already been through a gentleman.

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    In the fall he picked up his phone one afternoon to hear Grandma Lynn. 'Jack,' my grandmother announced, 'I am thinking of coming to stay.' My father was silent, but the line was riddled with his hesitation. 'I would like to make myself available to you and the children. I've been knocking around in this mausoleum long enough.' 'Lynn, we're just beginning to start over again,' he stammered. Still, he couldn't depend on Nate's mother to watch Buckley forever. Four months after my mother left, her temporary absence was beginning to take on the feel of permanence. My grandmother insisted. I watched her resist the remaining slug of vodka in her glass. 'I will contain my drinking until'- she thought hard here- 'after five o'clock, and,' she said,' what the hell, I'll stop altogether if you should find it necessary.' 'Do you know what you're saying?' My grandmother felt a clarity from her phone hand down to her pump-encased feet. 'Yes, I do. I think' It was only after he got off the phone that he let himself wonder, Where will we PUT her? It was obvious to everyone. ~pgs 213-214; Grandma Lynn and Jack;

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    I really hate that I need my glasses while using my laptop. What I hate even more is that I need those glasses to be full of vodka at all times. -Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz

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    I slept and the night rolled over into day like a dog. Another post-meridian awakening - sunshine on empty bottles, tangled clothes. I dozed while the temperature rose.

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    It doesn’t occur to me that alcohol might be unhinging me, that drinking at the rate I am can induce depression, impulsive behaviour, and symptoms of bipolar and borderline personality disorder.

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    it does seem the more we drink the better the words go.

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    I think a man can keep o drinking for centuries, he'll never die; especially wine or beer... I like drunkards, man, because drunkards, they come out of it, and they're sick and they spring back, they spring back and forth... if I hadn't been a drunkard, I probably would have committed suicide long ago.

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    It is not always about what you eat and drink. Rather it can be about what you are not eating and drinking, for which the body is desperately craving!

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    It is the return of a dog to his vomit.

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    It's a tradition to drink rakia with snacks. Not like the Russians, you know, who just drink to get drunk. I like a little snack with the news.

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    It's impossible to be a good writer if you haven't lived badly. A past life of drinking heavily, fighting and whoring all help to ease those words onto the page.

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    It's super cloudy right now but I think I can see the northern lights from my room. Another observation: Every light is a strobe light, if you just blink fast enough, and drink enough vodka. -Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz

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    It's too warm for red wine; now I mix gin and tonics instead. I find they make the ordinary sensation of living lighter, less ruffled.

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    I tried that too, you know. After ... my family was murdered, and I was waiting for justice, I tried to hide inside a bottle. But some men, Tony, [..] are not small enough to fit into a bottle.

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    It's amazing how fearless you can be when you want something bad enough, the lengths to which you'll go, the grit you'll put into the scheming and maneuvering. That's determination for you. I would have made a good bounty hunter.

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    Its funny whenever people who have'nt seen me in years meet up with me again and they are surprised that I'm not as shy and quiet as I was in the past, I credit that to my years of drinking at bars and partys and conversing with people I would never useally talk to, it was then I relized that even without drinking I could still talk to people just as easy. But It is still a little funner with a few beers in me.

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    Intoxication, like sexual euphoria, is the privilege of the human animal. Sexual frenzy is our compensation for the tedious moments we must suffer in the passage of life. “Nothing in excess” professed the ancient Greeks. Why, if I spend half the month in healthy scholarship and pleasant sleep, shouldn’t I be allowed the other half to howl at the moon and pillage the groins of Europe’s great beauties?

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    ...it was not considered right for a man not to drink, although drink was a dangerous thing. On the contrary, not to drink would have been thought a mark of cowardice and of incapacity for self-control. A man was expected even to get drunk if necessary, and to keep his tongue and his temper no matter how much he drank. The strong character would only become more cautious and more silent under the influence of drink; the weak man would immediately show his weakness. I am told the curious fact that in the English army at the present day officers are expected to act very much after the teaching of the old Norse poet; a man is expected to be able on occasion to drink a considerable amount of wine or spirits without showing the effects of it, either in his conduct or in his speech. "Drink thy share of mead; speak fair or not at all" - that was the old text, and a very sensible one in its way.

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    It's nice to watch television but it's even nicer when you've got a drink in your hand,' Gregory Ratcliffe, a Birmingham shopkeeper, told Reynolds News. 'Makes it more intimate somehow. Gives you the feeling that you're in a posh cabaret.

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    It was dawning on the wizards that they were outside the University, at night and without permission, for the first time in decades. A certain suppressed excitement crackled from man to man. Any watch trained in reading body language would have been prepared to bet that, after the click, someone was going to suggest that they might as well go somewhere and have a few drinks, and then someone else would fancy a meal, and then there was always room for a few more drinks, and then it would be 5 a.m. and the city guards would be respectfully knocking on the University gates and asking if the Archchancellor would care to step down to the cells to identify some alleged wizards who were singing an obscene song in six-part harmony, and perhaps he would also care to bring some money to pay for all the damage. Because inside every old person is a young person wondering what happened.

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    I understood drinking to be the gasoline of all adventure.

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    It was one of those striking moments in life where you find familiarity in the inexplicable.

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    I've found that martinis make mourning much easier.

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    It wasn't supposed to. It was just supposed to stop you from hurting yourself.” “It helps—” “No it doesn't. It just pushes it away temporarily. Just like the booze.” “But I need—” “You need to let yourself feel. Feel it, own it. Then move on.” “You make it sound so easy.” Bitterness drips from each syllable. “It’s not. It’s the fucking hardest thing a person can do.” I smooth a damp strand out of her face and away from my mouth. “It’s the hardest fucking thing. It’s why we drink and do drugs and fight. It’s why I play music and build engines.

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    Ivanov: Gentlemen, you've again set up a drinking shop in my study... I have asked each and every one of you a thousand times not to do that... Look now, you've spilt vodka on a paper... and there are crumbs... and gherkins... It's disgusting!

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    ... I've a thirst on me I wouldn't sell for half a crown. - Give it a name, citizen, says Joe. - Wine of the country, says he. - What's yours? says Joe. - Ditto MacAnaspey, says I. - Three pints, Terry, says Joe. And how's the old heart, citizen? says he.

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    i've had enough of this. if you'll excuse me, i'm going to find a tavern where i can pay an underdressed woman to sit it my lap and look very pleased with me while i drink heavily

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    I want to drink hard liquor, as you call it, before lunch. I've got a mouth like the bottom of the parrot's cage. You wouldn't want me to throw a screaming fit in front of all your officers.

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    I was a fool, alone, preparing to do what every fool did at such times—I was going to a bar to drink myself smart.

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    I went out and had a drink. I needed to talk to someone, and solitary drinkers are lucky in this regard— they always have someone to talk to.

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    Love is alcohol.

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    I've never understood people who just go out for one drink. Once I have one drink, I want all the drinks.

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    I was born three drinks short of comfortable...'" "But I knew what that guy meant about the way he was born three drinks short. It made me think about the first beer I ever drank, down at North Beach with a bunch of kids one summer night. It made me think about that first exquisite relief. It made me think about my ex-husband, Scott, who always said I should stop after the third drink. "That's when you get out of control," he'd say. I had no idea what we was talking about. After a couple of drinks is when I start to feel IN control.

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    living only for the moment, savouring the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms, and the maple leaves, singing songs, drinking wine, and diverting oneself in simply floating, unconcerned by the prospect of imminent poverty, buoyant and carefree, like a gourd carried along with the current of the river...

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    Lucas felt uncommonly depressed and careless. Drunkenness, in a man like August Hay, melts the restraints on cheerfulness. On the contrary with Lucas: he kept up courage consciously. Sap his mind, and the lid was lifted from a cesspool of muddy colors.

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    Millions of deaths would not have happened if it weren’t for the consumption of alcohol. The same can be said about millions of births.

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    May you drink so much that you lose your fear, but not so much that you lose your mind. May you eat so much that you gain your strength, but not so much that you lose your shape.

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    More likely drinking Coca-Cola... than water will be a symmetry...