Best 1268 quotes in «wine quotes» category

With The Reader, I'd just be shattered at the end of every day really. I wouldn't really want to talk. We kept saying, because we were in Berlin: "If we get back at a decent hour, let's go and have a glass of wine." We'd always think it would be a great idea, but then get to the end of the day and then go [acts drowsy and blabs]. It was very difficult for everybody.

With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.

With years a richer life begins, the spirit mellow: ripe age gives tones to violins, wine, and good fellows.

Women and wine, game and deceit, make the wealth small, and the want great

Women are like wine: I can only afford the really cheap ones that have the big, ugly boxes that leak.

Women shouldn’t deny their dark side. Sometimes those demons are frightening and sometimes they’re beautiful. You’ll have to approach them. Drink a glass of wine with them, take them for a walk on the beach, examine yourself.

Words become, 'product', so that it is as though you'd bought a 'hand-cooked' packet of crisps; there are different makes, various flavours, but in the end, they're all rather similar and while eating them while sipping white wine makes you feel posher than if you'd bought the bog-standard ones, afterwards you don't remember very much about them.

Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.

Writers write because they cannot allow the characters that inhabit them to suffocate them. These characters want to get out, to breathe fresh air and partake of the wine of friendship; were they to remain locked in, they would forcibly break down the walls. It is they who force the writer to tell their stories.

Writing more and more to the sound of music, writing more and more like music. Sitting in my studio tonight, playing record after record, writing, music a stimulant of the highest order, far more potent than wine.

Writing is something that you don't know how to do. You sit down and it's something that happens, or it may not happen. So, how can you teach anybody how to write? It's beyond me, because you yourself don't even know if you're going to be able to. I'm always worried, well, you know, every time I go upstairs with my wine bottle. Sometimes I'll sit at that typewriter for fifteen minutes, you know. I don't go up there to write. The typewriter's up there. If it doesn't start moving, I say, well this could be the night that I hit the dust.

Writings may be compared to wine. Sense is the strength, but wit the flavor.

Yeah Jesus could turn water in to wine, but he didn't share. Douche.

Years, lovers, and glasses of wine. These are things that should never be counted.

You collect as much information as you can and then you put it into the mulberry of your mind and hope that you come up with a decent wine. Sometimes you do; sometimes you don't.

You can consider me like fine wine. I just get better with age.

You can't rush good wine. It has to sit. And when you finally drink it, it's the bomb. It's worth the wait.

You can grow grapes in almost any part of the world. You just have to develop your palate enough to realize wine is an expression of the place where you make it. You don't have to take over the world; just be an artist and express your area.

You cannot hide any secret. If the artist succor his flagging spirits by opium or wine, his work will characterize itself as the effect of opium or wine. If you make a picture or a statue, it sets the beholder in that state of mind you had when you made it. If you spend for show, on building, or gardening, or on pictures, or on equipages, it will so appear. We are all physiognomists and penetrators of character, and things themselves are detective.

You can only know a good wine if you have first tasted a bad one.

You can tell German wine from vinegar by the label.

You have to eat right. That does not mean that I don't drink Cuban coffee. That does not mean that I do not have two cigarettes a day - that's what I'm down to. I drink wine - you know, I'm normal. But I do eat well.

You don't want to seem too eager, too romantic - otherwise, it just looks a bit try-hard. But I do think that a first date should be intimate. So I'd choose a nice dinner somewhere cozy, not too crowded, with good wine.

You may know more about vintage wine than the wine steward, but if you're smart you'll let your man do the choosing and be ecstatic over his selection, even if it tastes like shampoo.

You know, not everybody can afford to pay $58 for prime rib or $650 for a bottle of wine. My friends and I cook for regular families who worry about feeding their kids and paying the bills.

You know how you wake up in the morning and sometimes you look gorgeous and other times you look like you got hit by a mack truck? I realized that my mack truck is food. If I have no sugar, yeast or wine, I have no undereye bags and my skin is perfect.

You may think life is sweet now, but when death is a heartbeat away then life becomes unbearably desirable. And when you survive, everything you do will be enhanced and filled with greater joy: the sunlight, the breeze, a good wine, a woman's lips, a child's laughter.

You're walking by the tomb of Battiades, Who knew well how to write poetry, and enjoy Laughter at the right moment, over the wine.

Young man, two are the forces most precious to mankind. The first is Demeter, the Goddess. She is the Earth -- or any name you wish to call her -- and she sustains humanity with solid food. Next came Dionysus, the son of the virgin, bringing the counterpart to bread: wine and the blessings of life's flowing juices. His blood, the blood of the grape, lightens the burden of our mortal misery. Though himself a God, it is his blood we pour out to offer thanks to the Gods. And through him, we are blessed.

You've been nipping at cook's wine!!

Your lips and mine, two sips of wine, memories are made of this.

You see, baby, after a glass or two of wine I’m inclined to extravagance.

Your pretended fear lest error should step in, is like the man that would keep all the wine out of the country lest men should be drunk. It will be found an unjust and unwise jealousy, to deny a man the liberty he hath by nature upon a supposition that he may abuse it.

You who are dead ... tonight you will disport yourselves for my pleasure. Food and wine will pass between your dead lips, though you will not taste it. Your dead stomachs will hold it within you, while your dead feet take the measure of a dance. Your dead mouths will speak words that will have no meaning to you, and you will embrace one another without pleasure. You will sing for me if I wish it. You will lie down again when I will it.... Let the revelry begin.

You will always be the bread and the knife, not to mention the crystal goblet and—somehow—the wine.

Accordez-moi, Seigneur, ce vin qui est aussi nécessaire que votre précieux sang. Ce vin, sans quoi, tout ici bas est laid et maussade, ce vin qui rend la vie acceptable, et tolérables les foutus contemporains que vous m'avez données.

Zagreus was the son of Zeus. He was slain by the Titans, buried at the foot of Mount Parnassus, and rose from the dead as Dionysos. He was the god of fruit and wine. Like those of Christ his most devoted followers were women. He is the beloved son and occupies a throne at the right hand of his father, Zeus. His empty tomb at Delphi was long preserved by his devotees as proof of his death, and resurrection.

A good sherris-sack hath a twofold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and dull and crudy vapors which environ it, makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit.

A glass of water with peace is better than several glasses of wine with trouble. Here's a glass of water . . . Cheers to the good life

Ah, wine. Wine was my friend. Wine understood me. Wine knew that it was entirely possible to be one hundred percent happy for your sisters and also ten percent jealous, because Wine does not care about mathematics.

Ah, Shiraz! What a town! The rose gardens, the nightingales. Paradise. You know, I got a hold of some wine while I was there. I'll never forget that bouquet." Julian cleared his throat. " 'Rose petals let us scatter and fill the cup with red wine, the firmaments let us shatter and come with a new design.' " He lifted his glass in a toast to Hafez's ode to the fermented grape. Marjan met his toast with her own glass.

Ah, wine. Wine was my friend. Wine understood me. Wine knew that it was entirely possible to be one hundred percent happy for your sisters and also ten percent jealous, because Wine does not care about mathematics. Harlow, Melanie (2016-02-09). Some Sort of Love: A Happy Crazy Love Novel (Kindle Locations 44-46). . Kindle Edition.

And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine, Since the world can in no way answer our craving, I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat.

A man does not know the full depth of his thoughts till he picks up a pen and writes; Or till he picks up a bottle and drinks; Both have roughly the same amount of intoxicating influence; With the former, they sometimes come out refined; With the latter, they always come out unscripted; Pick your poison wisely, Spill your innards sparingly

And of a Sunday swarm the folk Under the honeysuckle vine, Quaffing, the while they talk and smoke, The sun, the melody, the wine.

AMUSING MYSELF Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk, Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes. Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream, Birds are far off, people too are few.

Anyone can produce a blend full of complexity, but a monovarietal that exudes complex layers is a sign of a master winemaker.

And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for awhile; and shall later on be my companion and my helper.

A small frosted glass of umeshu (plum wine) sat on a white paper coaster toward the top. The syrupy wine, actually made from small Japanese apricots, had a honeyed smoothness and a fruity finish that left behind a streak of warmth.

As if the dead really do persist, even in a bottle of wine.