Bacchus, n.: A convenient deity invented by the ancients as an excuse for getting drunk.
Music is the wine which inspires one to new generative processes, and I am Bacchus who presses out this glorious wine for mankind and makes them spiritually drunken.
Good wine is a good familiar creature if it be well used.
Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure,- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine.
Wine is sunlight, held together by water.
He who loves not women, wine, and song Remains a fool his whole life long.
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine.
Claret is the liquor for boys; port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy.
Bacchus has drowned more men than Neptune.
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.
Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.
One of the disadvantages of wine is that it makes a man mistake words for thoughts.
Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.
Give me a bowl of wine, In this I bury all unkindness.
Eat and carouse with Bacchus, or munch dry bread with Jesus, but don't sit down without one of the gods.
I believe that even a smattering of such findings in modern science and mathematics is far more compelling and exciting than most of the doctrines of pseudoscience, whose practitioners were condemned as early as the fifth century B.C. by the Ionian philosopher Heraclitus as “nigh -walkers, magicians, priests of Bacchus, priestesses of the wine-vat, mystery-mongers.” But science is more intricate and subtle, reveals a much richer imiverse, and powerfully evokes our sense of wonder.
Who gives to Aristaeus honey; Or wine to Bacchus, or Triptolemus Earth's fruits, or apples to Alcinous?
I love drinking now and then. It defecates the standing pool of thought. A man perpetually in the paroxysm and fears of inebriety is like a half-drowned stupid wretch condemned to labor unceasingly in water; but a now-and-then tribute to Bacchus is like the cold bath, bracing and invigorating.
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