Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine, There’s always laughter and good red wine. At least I’ve always found it so. Benedicamus Domino!
A good margarita, a good red wine, I like expensive alcohol, but not a lot of it. I don't like to throw up.
Whenever a man is tired, wine is a great restorer of strength.
Men are like wine - some turn to vinegar, but the best improve with age.
Some turn to vinegar, but the best improve with age.
Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.
The voice is an instrument that you really must take time to develop. It's like a good red wine Give it time.
Sometimes it would be nice to just have some red wine with dinner, but it's not worth the risk. I have a great life, a great situation. Why would I want to risk self-destructive behaviour?
What is man, when you come to think upon him, but a minutely set, ingenious machine for turning with infinite artfulness, the red wine of Shiraz into urine?
The only advice I can give to aspiring writers is don't do it unless you're willing to give your whole life to it. Red wine and garlic also helps.
White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
It is time to get drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk; get drunk without stopping! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
Champagne is the one thing that gives me zest when I am tired.
I'm on a lot of airplanes, so I just sip on red wine thinking of stupid ideas and, when I think of it, I wanna make it happen.
I drink red wine on ice to water it down.
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Good wine needs neither bush nor preface to make it welcome. And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd.
One holds a bottle of red wine by the neck, a woman by the waist, and a bottle of champagne by the derriere.
A man can never have too much red wine, too many books, or too much ammunition
Basically, my musical life is split between raving with drugged-up kids and reading obscure 75-year-old poetry, drinking very nice red wine with aged, graying men.
The green earth sends her incense up. From many a mountain shrine; From folded leaf and dewey cup She pours her sacred wine.
It is the crushed grape that gives out the blood-red wine: it is the suffering soul that breathes the sweetest melodies.
This is the dream of all the world. The dream is to live in Granada. You know, work in the morning, have a one-hour nap in the afternoon, and at night go out and have that life. Go out and see your friends and eat tapas and drink red wine and be in a beautiful place.
I'm very surprised - midway through my second glass of red wine last night, I really didn't think I'd be standing here with a trophy in my hands.
What on earth is modern exegesis up to? Oh, little lazy one! Some red wine and up! Off you go, brandishing your fork, stripped of Ophelia's useless ornaments, fire in your large nostrils, out to rake the muck of metaphors.
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