Best 1158 quotes in «alcohol quotes» category

The most dangerous drink is gin. You have to be really, really careful with that. And you also have to be 45, female and sitting on the stairs. Because gin isn't really a drink, it's more a mascara thinner. "Nobody likes my shoes!" "I made... I made fifty... fucking vol-au-vents, and not one of you... not one of you... said 'Thank you.'" And my favourite: "Everybody, shut up. Shut up! This song is all about me.

Then all at once I'm crushed by sadness. Because I realised none of this is actually me or permanent or real. I don't belong here; I can't belong. It was only the alcohol that made me believe - for a brief moment - that I could.

The Napoleon of Temperance” or “Father of Prohibition,” activist Neal S. Dow helped to construct the “Maine Law” of 1851, outlawing the use of alcohol for reasons other than mechanical or medicinal purposes. He was the mayor of the city when “The Portland Rum Riot” broke out, leading to the militia shooting into the crowds. One person was killed and seven wounded when the people demanded to know why there was rum stored in the City Hall. Early in the American Civil War, on November 23, 1861, former mayor Dow was commissioned as a Colonel in the 13th Maine Infantry. On April 28th of the following year, he received a commission as Brigadier General in the Union Army. His service included commanding two captured Confederate forts near New Orleans and fighting in the siege of Port Hudson, Louisiana. During this skirmish he was wounded and later captured. General Dow was traded and gained his freedom 8 months later from General William H. F. Lee, the son of Robert E. Lee. Neal S. Dow died on October 2, 1897, and was buried in the Evergreen Cemetery in Portland. His home, the Neal S. Dow house built in 1829, was used as a stop for slaves on the “Maine Underground Railway” and is located at 714 Congress Street in Portland. The historic building is now the home of the Maine Women's Christian Temperance Union.

The one plentiful herds of magazine writers would continue to be culled - by the Internet, by the recession, by the American public, who would rather watch TV or play video games or electronically inform friends that, like, 'rain sucks!' But there's no app for a bourbon buzz on a warm day in a cool, dark bar. The world will always want a drink.

The only thing we chase our shots with are high-fives.

The only way to truly help most drug addicts and most alcoholics is to—instead of them—change reality.

The others would then fall silent and she would continue about doped gallium arsenide detectors, or the ethanol content of the galactic cloud W-3. The quantity of 200-proof alcohol in this single interstellar cloud was more than enough to maintain the present population of the Earth, if every adult were a dedicated alcoholic, for the age of the solar system. The tamada had appreciated the remark.

The Pilgrims believed beer was an unalloyed good, a 'good creature of God.' People who did not drink were suspect and 'crank-brained.

The problem with the 11:11 Phenomenon is getting anybody interested in it that hasn't experienced it themselves. Other phenomena, such as U.F.Os or crop circles, are able to be seen. We can debate them. But seeing and being guided by 11:11 is hard to convey to those uninitiated in its ways.

The prohibition of wine is a very wise maxism and meant for the common people, being the source of disorders amongst them, but that the prophet never designed to confine those that knew how to use it with moderation.

The problem with taxation is that authors can't write off whiskey as a business expense.

The Prohibition era had been a great source of material for building an excellent science of alcohol intoxication

There has never been any art or literature without drink and there never will be....Unless something is done about the matter [prohibition] this country is going to the dogs. There has been no development in our art or literature for 30 or 40 years.

There has never been a 'war on drugs'! In our history we can only see an ongoing conflict amongst various drug users – and producers. In ancient Mexico the use of alcohol was punishable by death, while the ritualistic use of mescaline was highly worshipped. In 17th century Russia, tobacco smokers were threatened with mutilation or decapitation, alcohol was legal. In Prussia, coffee drinking was prohibited to the lower classes, the use of tobacco and alcohol was legal.

There have been two great narcotics in European civilisation: Christianity and alcohol.

There is hope for the alcoholic: God is able to deliver from this as well as any other addiction.

There is this advantage about German beer: it does not make a man drunk as the word drunk is understood in England. There is nothing objectionable about him; he is simply tired. He does not want to talk; he wants to be let alone, to go to sleep; it does not matter where— anywhere.

There is indeed one person who can help solve “writer’s block”. His name is Mr Johnnie Walker.

There is something delightfully decadent about about getting sloshed on a Tuesday afternoon, don't you think?

There is more food in a pennyworth of bread than in a gallon of ale.

There’s two ways to go in this life. You can try to rise above it, overpower it, with meditation, exercise, and purity. Or you can take the easier route, something to help you along the way, such as alcohol and drugs. Either way, you overpower and escape the problem, humanity.

The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.

There was something ghost-like and insubstantial about gases to these early chemists. They called liquids that turned into gases easily, "spirits." Methyl alcohol, they called "wood spirit"; ethyl alcohol, "wine spirit." Even today, alcoholic beverages are frequently referred to as "spirits." (Modern Arabs, from whose language the word "alcohol" was taken, call ethyl alcohol "spirit" from the English. This is a queer exchange.)

The second whiskey is always my favorite. From the third on, it no longer has any taste. It's just something to pour into your stomach.

The thing about alcohol, though non-drinkers, non-alcoholics and reformed alcoholics may falsely dispute this, is that each day, or night on booze, is a different journey, the destination being a mystery, but quite possibly the final one.

The ultimate Doctor and Mr Hyde moment is when your best friends block you, but still regularly contact you

The way a man drinks in company tells you nothing about him, but the way he drinks when alone reveals, without his realizing it, the very depths of his soul.

The two of them together in a place like Retribution Falls would result in alcoholic carnage, sure as bird shit on statues.

The waiter walked over with a tray and two orangey-pink drinks. He placed them on the table. "Georgia Peaches. Peach schnapps, brandy, cranberry juice- the first request the bartender's ever had for one of these.

They said she was cruel because she’d been harmed in the past. They claimed she was cold because she just hadn’t met the right fellow to warm her. Anything to soften her edges and sweeten her disposition—and what was the fun in that? Zoya’s company was like strong drink. Bracing— and best to abstain if you couldn’t handle the kick.

The whiskey was a good start. I got the idea from Dylan Thomas. He's this poet who drank twenty-one straight whiskeys at the White Horse Tavern in New York and then died on the spot from alcohol poisoning. I've always wanted to hear the bartender's side of the story. What was it like watching this guy drink himself out of here? How did it feel handing him number twenty-one and watching his face crumple up before the fall of the stool? And did he already have number twenty-two poured, waiting for this big fat tip, and then have to drink it himself after whoever came took the body away?

They talk about prohibition in America. What can one do in a country such as that?    'What does one do in America when one is sad - without alcohol?' asks Zwonimir.

Thi Gurru hun svarede Halvor en Pæl, Tak have den Dan-Qvind' som giorde saa vel, Og icke goed Tilbud forsmaade; Ey heller var Anfri og Malfri saa svag, De begge med Flasken jo droges et Drag, Saa meget de stakler formaade.

Think champagne, drink champagne!

Things, since you left, have not gone well with me: they have taken me from a place where there was gin to a place where there is no gin[.]

This society doesn't work without booze – our parties aren't good enough, our conversations aren't sufficiently interesting, nor is our self-confidence high enough to sustain our interactions without alcohol. It's everywhere, lubricating everything.

Those who avoid reality mustn't dare counsel others on what reality is nor how it shall be dealt with.

This stage in the life of the buzz is truly fabulous. It's not even a buzz anymore. It's a roar. The world opens up and everything's yours right there, right now. You've probably heard the expression -- All good things must come to an end. Well, this stage in the life of the buzz never heard anything close to that. This stage says, "I will never end. I am indestructible. I will last fabulously forever." And of course, you believe it. To hell with tomorrow. To hell with all problems and barriers. Nothing matters but the Spectacular Now.

This self-confident generation has produced more alcoholics, more drug addicts, more criminals, more wars, more broken homes, more assaults, more embezzlements, more murders, and more suicides . . .it is time all of us . . . begin to take stock of our failures, blunders, and costly mistakes. It is about time that we place less confidence in ourselves and more trust and faith in God.

Thousands are killed and injured every year by teenagers driving too fast or under the influence of drugs and drink . . .others are killing [themselves] with alcohol or heroin overdoses.

Though it had no wide reputation, all manner of people frequented 'The Midnight Bell.' This was in its nature, of course, since it is notorious that all manner of people frequent all manner of public-houses - which in this respect resemble railway stations and mad-houses.

To begin with, there is an almost compulsive promiscuity associated with homosexual behavior. 75% of homosexual men have more than 100 sexual partners during their lifetime. More than half of these partners are strangers. Only 8% of homosexual men and 7% of homosexual women ever have relationships lasting more than three years. Nobody knows the reason for this strange, obsessive promiscuity. It may be that homosexuals are trying to satisfy a deep psychological need by sexual encounters, and it just is not fulfilling. Male homosexuals average over 20 partners a year. According to Dr. Schmidt, The number of homosexual men who experience anything like lifelong fidelity becomes, statistically speaking, almost meaningless. Promiscuity among homosexual men is not a mere stereotype, and it is not merely the majority experience—it is virtually the only experience. Lifelong faithfulness is almost non-existent in the homosexual experience. Associated with this compulsive promiscuity is widespread drug use by homosexuals to heighten their sexual experiences. Homosexuals in general are three times as likely to be problem drinkers as the general population. Studies show that 47% of male homosexuals have a history of alcohol abuse and 51% have a history of drug abuse. There is a direct correlation between the number of partners and the amount of drugs consumed. Moreover, according to Schmidt, “There is overwhelming evidence that certain mental disorders occur with much higher frequency among homosexuals.” For example, 40% of homosexual men have a history of major depression. That compares with only 3% for men in general. Similarly 37% of female homosexuals have a history of depression. This leads in turn to heightened suicide rates. Homosexuals are three times as likely to contemplate suicide as the general population. In fact homosexual men have an attempted suicide rate six times that of heterosexual men, and homosexual women attempt suicide twice as often as heterosexual women. Nor are depression and suicide the only problems. Studies show that homosexuals are much more likely to be pedophiles than heterosexual men. Whatever the causes of these disorders, the fact remains that anyone contemplating a homosexual lifestyle should have no illusions about what he is getting into. Another well-kept secret is how physically dangerous homosexual behavior is.

Thus, in the boy’s mind, drink and destruction braided together. Intoxication, he concluded, was a swift and effective catalyst for havoc.

„Tik išgėręs žmogus su malonumu gali prisiminti ką nors nemalonaus iš savo gyvenimo.

too much alcohol hampers people's ability to parent. That's why I've chosen to remain childless.

Two wives despaired of him,’ he said. ‘When he got engaged to Sylvia, she made it a condition that he should take the cure at Zurich. And it worked. He came back in three months a different man. And he hasn't touched a drop since, even though Sylvia walked out on him.’ ‘Why did she do that?’ Well, poor Charlie got rather a bore when he stopped drinking. But that’s not really the point of the story.

Trillian did a little research in the ship's copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It had some advice to offer on drunkenness. "Go to it," it said, "and good luck.

Trust me. You can dance. - VODKA

Volnaka ... did a remarkable job of getting anyone drunk with alacrity. It also worked well as a combustible in lamps, as paint remover, was a marvelous antiseptic and was singularly effective at erasing any memory of ever having imbibed it

Under the spell of alcohol your differences recede.