Partake of love as a temperate man partakes of wine; do not become intoxicated.
One man affirms that he has rode post a hundred miles in six hours; probably it is a lie; but supposing it to be true, what then? Why, he is a very good post-boy; that is all. Another asserts, and probably not without oaths, that he has drunk six or eight bottles of wine at a sitting; out of charity I will believe him a liar; for if I do not, I must think him a beast.
While man can still his body keep Wine or love drug him to sleep, Waking he thanks the Lord that he Has body and its stupidity.
The critic is actually describing a conscious representation of their interaction with the wine, and therefore the score of rating is a property of that interaction and not the wine itself
Are two people drinking from the same bottle of wine having a common experience?
Most wine knowledge does not directly enhance the pleasures to be had in drinking wine but, rather, enhances one's ability to discover such pleasures
Wine is not discovered but made: it is an artifact that can be appraised that can be appraised aesthetically
Unlike art which contains a message, wine conveys nothing, it has no intellectual or cognitive content
Look not thou on beauty's charming; Sit thou still when kings are arming; Taste not when the wine-cup glistens; Speak not when the people listens
Remember, that when I speak of pleasures I always mean the elegant pleasures of a rational being, and not the brutal ones of a swine. I mean la bonne chère, short of gluttony; wine, infinitely short of drunkenness; play, without the least gaming; and gallantry, without debauchery.
A rake is a composition of all the lowest, most ignoble, degrading, and shameful vices; they all conspire to disgrace his character, and to ruin his fortune; while wine and the pox content which shall soonest and most effectually destroy his constitution.
A life of mere pleasure! A little while, in the spring-time of the senses, in the sunshine of prosperity, in the jubilee of health, it may seem well enough. But how insufficient, how mean, how terrible when age comes, and sorrow, and death! A life of pleasure! What does it look like when these great changes beat against it--when the realities of eternity stream in? It looks like the fragments of a feast, when the sun shines upon the withered garlands, and the tinsel, and the overturned tables, and the dead lees of wine.
When a person has swum, traveled, run a lathe, planted flowers, ridden a motorcycle, made wine, painted a picture, parachuted, he has increased the fund from which he may draw for new figural developments. In other words, as the background of his experience becomes more diversified, it also becomes potentially more harmonious with a whole range of happenings.
Wine has drowned more than the sea.
That's a horrible thought. I guess cheese or wine. I think I might be too depressed to eat if I had to eat only one thing for the rest of my life.
The Council of the Royal Society is a collection of men who elect each other to office and then dine together at the expense of this society to praise each other over wine and give each other medals.
During my drinking decades, I lived like a pig. My room was a hazardous pile of stilettos, tube tops, wine bottles, ashtrays, and old magazines. I valued nothing. Everything that came into my life was disposable: clothes, opportunities, people. My bedroom looked as if my insides had spilled out onto the floor.
Frenchmen drink wine just like we used to drink water before Prohibition.
Earlier this week Donald Trump gave an interview with CNN at a winery he owns in Virginia. It turns out Trump's winery makes two different kinds of wine: white wine and not-white wine.
What grape to keep its place in the sun, taught our ancestors to make wine?
If Dracula would be happy there, so will your wine.
Wine is for sharing. What's the fun of swirling, swishing, sloshing and yakking if my friends can't join in?
Wine lovers all speak of their First Time, a quasi-spiritual moment of awakening to wine's wonderment. After that, it's a life sentence. I've seen it happen to even the most confirmed beer sluggers.
A great pinot chases its own tail. You drink it and you just keep finding new tastes that go with it. My dream was to make a world-class pinot and learn more about other wines as well.
Like so many people, I only remembered Orson Welles as this huge, fat, bearded figure selling wine in TV commercials. So whenever anyone said I looked like Orson Welles I said that I wasnt that fat, and I would get on a diet, quickly.
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