Champagne and orange juice is a great drink. The orange improves the champagne. The champagne definitely improves the orange.
Champagne, if you are seeking the truth, is better than a lie detector.
Why do I drink Champagne for breakfast? Doesn't everyone?
Champagne is the one thing that gives me zest when I am tired.
Champagne is simply one of the elegant extras of life.
Two warm bodies and one cold bottle of champagne will produce something more wonderful than would happen without the champagne.
There comes a time in every woman's life when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne.
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands.
Some turn to vinegar, but the best improve with age.
My dear girl, there are some things that just aren't done, such as drinking Dom Perignon '53 above the temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That's just as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs!
It is well to remember that there are five reasons for drinking: the arrival of a friend, one's present or future thirst, the excellence of the cognac, or any other reason
Life's too short to drink bad wine or smoke poor cigars.
Champagne, if you are seeking the truth, is better than a lie detector. It encourages a man to be expansive, even reckless, while lie detectors are only a challenge to tell lies successfully.
Drinking good wine with good food in good company is one of life's most civilized pleasures.
Gentlemen, in the little moment that remains to us between the crisis and the catastrophe, we may as well drink a glass of Champagne.
I'm only a beer teetotaler, not a champagne teetotaler; I don't like beer.
Drinking champagne after making love is like taking a bath in chilled pearls.
It's about how whenever I fall in love, I have these expectations of the experience being a perfect dream, which, of course, ruins it. I imagine cradling my lover's head in my lap in a cab in the middle of the night, and drinking champagne in an elegant hotel suite. But life's rarely like that, and I usually end up walking home by myself in the rain.
I'm drinking champagne, got the head phones up high, can't numb you out.
It was Buckley, as my father and sister joined the group and listened to Grandma Lynn’s countless toasts, who saw me. He saw me standing under the rustic colonial clock and stared. He was drinking champagne. There were strings coming out from all around me, reaching out, waving in the air. Someone passed him a brownie. He held it in his hand but did not eat. He saw my shape and face, which had not changed-the hair still parted down the middle, the chest still flat and hips undeveloped-and wanted to call out my name. It was only a moment, and then I was gone.
He'd heard that writers spent all day in their dressing gowns drinking champagne. This is, of course, absolutely true.
I'm drunk and high at the same time/Drinking champagne on the airplane.
I like this world. I like drinking champagne. I like not smoking. I like Dutch people speaking Dutch.
Sometimes, though, you make a pact with yourself. I'll pretend there's nothing wrong if you pretend there's nothing wrong. It's called denial, and it's one of the strongest pacts in the world. Just ask all those people who were still drinking champagne while the Titanic went down.
What's problematic about playing stadiums and driving around in private jets and drinking champagne at 8 o'clock in the morning? What's wrong with that? I haven't got a problem with that. I can't fathom why people would.
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