There would never be a way for me to live comfortably with people. Maybe I'd become a monk. I'd pretend to believe in God and live in a cubicle, play an organ and stay drunk on wine.
I do not have to be high to be great. I do not have to be drunk to have a good idea. I can sit with my thoughts and not feel crazy. I can do it... I can do it without the dope.
If you want to know where God is, ask a drunk.
I drank some coffee and my outlook improved immensely. I was ready to write some poems and, I don’t know, get drunk, run around, take my shirt off and get kicked out of someplace. You know, live a little.
If getting drunk was how people forgot they were mortal, then hangovers were how they remembered.
If all we ever sang about was how happy we are, we would be lying to ourselves. People try to escape their problems by getting drunk, partying and dancing them away. What really heals me is to sit down and think, face the facts, then you can get over it and be happy
There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne — bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive.
There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne - bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive. One only feels really free when one can go in whatever direction one pleases over the plains, to get to the river at sundown and pitch one's camp, with the knowledge that one can fall asleep beneath other trees, with another view before one, the next night.
There's nothing inherently interesting about being a drunk -- in fact, quite the contrary.
I loved the full heat of being drunk, like I was made of melting chocolate and spreading in all directions.
When you are lying drunk at the airport you're Irish. When you win an Oscar you're British.
A good wine has many qualities I think. If drunk moderately, it is healthy and good for your heart.
I was haunted always by my other life-my drab room in the Bronx, my square foot of the subway, my fixation upon the day's letter from Alabama-would it come and what would it say?-my shabby suits, my poverty, and love. While my friends were launching decently into life I had muscled my inadequate bark into midstream... I was a failure-mediocre at advertising work and unable to get started as a writer. Hating the city, I got roaring, weeping drunk on my last penny and went home.
About medications that are drunk or applied to wounds it is worth learning from everyone; for people do not discover these by reasoning but by chance, and experts not more than laymen.
Well I ain't seen my baby since I don't know when, I've been drinking bourbon whiskey, scotch and gin Gonna get high man I'm gonna get loose, Need me a triple shot of that juice Gonna get drunk don't you have no fear I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer One bourbon, one scotch, one beer.
I got drunk in Canada. I was there for 2 days but I was drunk there for 4 days. I don't know how it worked. I guess it was with the time difference or something.
Drunk people run stop signs, high people wait for them to turn green
It is better to be drunk with loss and to beat the ground, than to let the deeper things gradually escape.
I bowled for two years in college, because I was drunk and needed shoes.
How much more of the mosque, of prayer and fasting? Better go drunk and begging round the taverns. Khayyam, drink wine, for soon this clay of yours Will make a cup, bowl, one day a jar. When once you hear the roses are in bloom, Then is the time, my love, to pour the wine; Houris and palaces and Heaven and Hell- These are but fairy-tales, forget them all.
I took my mother's knife and played johnny johnny johnny on the playhouse floor. I was drunk, stabbed myself every few throws. I held my hand up and there was satisfaction at seeing my blood, the way there was when I saw the red gouges onmy face that people stared at and turned away. They were thinking I was beautiful, but they were wrong, now they could see how ugly and mutilated I was.
I celebrate myself, and I hope soon the day will come you will be celebrating yourself. And when thousands and thousands of people around the earth are celebrating, singing, dancing, ecstatic, drunk with the divine, there is no possibility of any global suicide. With such festivity and with such laughter, with such sanity and health, with such naturalness and spontaneity, how can there be a war?
It's your 21st birthday... What are you doing sober at the front row of a concert? Is it your 21st birthday? By the end of the night I promise... we will get you drunk, my friend.
By the time dessert arrives I am usually so drunk, I can't remember what I'm serving.
I had an ASU student looking for it in my shop last week, and he defined the Bacchants for me as 'those drunk chicks who killed that one dude because he wouldn't have sex with them.' His professors must be so proud. I asked him if he knew what maenads were, and instead of correctly answering that it was just another name for Bacchants, he bizarrely thought I was referring to my own testicles - as in, "'Ere now, mate, don't swing that bat around me nads.'" The conversation deteriorated quickly after that.
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