“Let others seek renown in arms; For me wine’s wars have greater charms: Then fill the bowl, boy; fill it high: ‘Tis better drunk, than dead to lie.”

He who has a mind to fight, let him fight, for now is the time.

Thus, while I quaff the genial wine, I live mid transports quite divine.

Life is like a chariot-wheel that ever rolls along.

And last of all comes death.

How the waves of the sea kiss the shore!

I both love and do not love; and am mad and not mad.

Today is ours; what do we fear? Today is ours: we have it here. Let’s treat it kindly, that it may Wish at least with us to stay.

For when we quaff the gen’rous bowl, Then sleep the sorrows of our soul. Let us drink the juice divine, The gift of Bacchus, god of wine. When I take wine, my cares go to rest.

The sea drinks the air and the sun the sea.

To-day belongs to me, To-morrow who can tell.

War spares not the brave, but the cowardly.

Ah, cruel ’tis to love, And cruel not to love, But cruelest of all To love and love in vain.

My Passion uncontrolled shall rove, Doubly debauched with Wine and Love.

Cursed be he above all others Who’s enslaved by love of money. Money takes the place of brothers, Money takes the place of parents, Money brings us war and slaughter.

I drink to the ones who can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.

I’m drinking doubles now that you’re running around single again.

The Scriptures are shallow enough for a babe to come and drink without fear of drowning and deep enough for theologians to swim in without ever reaching the bottom.

My doctor tells me I should start slowing it down – but there are more old drunks than there are old doctors so let’s all have another round.

I’m not trying to be a big shot or anything like that, but I get my drinks half price.

Writer’s block is a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol.

My wife actually got worried about my drinking so much regular milk, you know, so she got me into rice milk and now soy milk, which I greatly enjoy. A soy mocha’s a fine thing.

She needs to have a few drinks and cry a little-then she’ll be perfect.