Alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, may produce all the effects of drunkenness.

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.

People spend half of their free time drinking alcohol and the other half watching totally sober people on television. And they want to be those people, live those lives. Ever wondered why we rarely see a person actually drinking alcohol on television? It’s because they would come across embarrassing sad-assed losers. They just wouldn’t be...

When you are young your body cannot handle alcohol, and when you get old your mind cannot handle it. Either way, alcohol has its way.

The one conclusion I have reached is that whiskey is a great leveler. You might be a hotshot advertising executive or a lowly foundry worker, but if you cannot hold your drink, you are just a drunkard.

Cannabis sativa and its derivatives are strictly prohibited in Turkey, and the natural correlative of this proscription is that alcohol, far from being frowned upon as it is in other Moslem lands, is freely drunk; being a government monopoly it can be bought at any cigarette counter. This fact is no mere detail; it is...

Cuando no estaba en las escaleras, estaba en los aviones. Fumaba, bebía café y alcohol tratando de no sentir nada. Mi vida se trataba de caminar sin parar, huyendo de mi verdad cada vez que podía.

And when he got home he started on Mumma. He hated her then, because in her fatness and untidiness and drabness she reminded him of what he himself was when he was sober.

I took a breath. Pictured the bed waiting for me upstairs. Then retreated to the lobbybar alone and ordered an ice-cold gin martini, a small signal to myself that my work was done. I held the glass, its inverted construction an insult to gravity and the order of things. Just like our Movement, from the...

I don’t have a drinking problem ‘Cept when I can’t get a drink.

Veimke” (jeune fille au pair),is subject to natural law,and can be made fat,by such things as poor diet,and alcohol.

I live on shameless flattery…and vodka…but the two usually go hand in hand.

This isn’t champagne anymore. We went through the champagne a long time ago. This is serious stuff. The days of champagne are long gone.

Did Ida never look for him?” Dieter asks.”She didn’t believe in spirits.””And what became of Henry?””Oh. From time to time you can still hear him calling. My father heard his voice himself.””Every Saturday night when he came home drunk,” Frieda says.

Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart’s yearning.

Rather a drink be my master than a man.

I would not put a thief in my mouth to steal my brains.

it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance

Pour alcohol on a bundle of nerves and it generally turns into a can of worms.

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...

If hot food is they key to maintaining an expedition’s stamina, then low grade gut-rot alcohol is the key to sustaining its sense of pleasure.

There’a a phrase, “the elephant in the living room”, which purports to describe what it’s like to live with a drug addict, an alcoholic, an abuser. People outside such relationships will sometimes ask, “How could you let such a business go on for so many years? Didn’t you see the elephant in the living room?”...

Mr Cobb was my escort. Such a nice escort, Mr Cobb. So attentive. You should see him sober. I should see him sober. Somebody should see him sober. I mean, just for the record. So it could become a part of history, that brief flashing moment, soon buried in time, but never forgotten – when...

Civilization rests on two things,” said Hitzig; “the discovery that fermentation produces alcohol, and voluntary ability to inhibit defecation. And I put it to you, where would this splendidly civilized occasion be without both?

Dixon was alive again. Consciousness was upon him before he could get out of the way; not for him the slow, gracious wandering from the halls of sleep, but a summary, forcible ejection. He lay sprawled, too wicked to move, spewed up like a broken spider-crab on the tarry shingle of morning. The light did...

When a man is on the road to power he buys everyone a drink. Once elected he tries to close the saloons.

In the remote towns of the west there are few of the amenities of civilization; there is no sewerage, there are no hospitals, rarely a doctor; the food is dreary and flavourless from long carrying, the water is bad; electricity is for the few who can afford their own plant, roads are mostly non-existent; there...

Any connoisseur knows you’ve got to be drunk to really enjoy a good romance.

I think that it is a great tragedy that a child can lose their mother, father, sister or brother, because you and I made a decision that getting loaded was more important than they are.

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

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...

Squiffy, have you ever felt a sort of strange emptiness in the heart? A sort of aching void of the soul?”Oh, rather!”What do you do about it?”I generally take a couple of cocktails.

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.

Worrying about parents is a waste of time. It’s your life. Let’s have a martini.

He poured this to the brim with good bourbon (Miss Elling knew it was good bourbon because she had helped herself to a snifter from the flask during his luncheon absence on her third day in his employ) and spent ten minutes sipping the drink.

Sex had nothing to do with feeling good, everything to do with superficialities, and was always accompanied by a masochistic agenda to feel anything but dead inside.

Alcohol, I had learned, was an eloquent if somewhat inaccurate interpreter. I had placed my trust that December night in glass after glass of it, eager not for drink but for a bit of talk.

I started to drink heavily, comfortably caught in the tentacle-like clutches of alcohol.

It was baking hot in the square when we came out after lunch with our bags and the rod-case to go to Burguete. People were on top of the bus, and others were climbing up a ladder. Bill went up and Robert sat beside Bill to save a place for me, and I went back...

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.

Alcohol. It sucks the life out of a face and replaces it with its own dumb shine of inanity. It’s up to you. If you want to lose yourself, have a drink.

I’ve found, though, that people are more likely to share their personal experiences if you go first, so that’s why I always keep an eleven-point list of what went wrong in my childhood to share with them. Also I usually crack open a bottle of tequila to share with them, because alcohol makes me less...

These guys had names for every conceivable drinking situation. They liked to have a little eye-opener to get themselves going in the morning, a midmorning bracer before attempting anything serious, a few modest cocktails at lunch, followed by the obligatory afternoon pick-me-up, which segued neatly right into happy hour and ended with a little one...

A father and son walked into a bar, and the bartender didn’t serve either because the one didn’t look old enough. And he was right. Who becomes a dad in middle school?

I drink wine like beer, only twice as much less.

Alcohol is good for killing microbes. It does mean that it also kills macrobes (human).

Alcoholics never win but always do sin.

Whiskey burns—my throat, not a forest. Love burns—my heart, not a forest. As for the forest, it burnt itself. At least that’s what I told the police during their interrogation.

Lovecraft says he knows about tentaclesbut that motherfucker never bedded a girl from West Chesterand survivedShe was a toothachethat oneand she tasted like crackthe best thing about her was if I was ever hungryI could always make a meal out of whateverwas making rest at the corners of her mouthI can’t remember her nameas is...

It’s a great advantage not to drink among hard drinking people.