“In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.”

With empty hand no man can lure a hawk.

If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?

There’s no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.

Every honest miller has a golden thumb.

Harde is his heart that loveth nought In May.

Abstinence is approved of God.

What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.

If gold rust, what then will iron do? For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust.

With empty hands men may no hauks lure.

For in their hearts doth Nature stir them so Then people long on pilgrimage to go And palmers to be seeking foreign strands To distant shrines renowned in sundry lands.

The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.

Men love newfangleness.

Many a true word is spoken in jest.

He who accepts his poverty unhurt I’d say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get.

What’s said is said and goes upon its way Like it or not, repent it as you may.

Patience is a conquering virtue.

A few drinks and the world was hers – she wore her whiskey like a loaded gun.

My blood is fifty percent alcohol the other half was you.

Off the liquor that’s when I’m the most honest.

The night is to get drunk listening to adventure.

I’m in no condition to drive, wait! I shouldn’t listen to myself, I’m drunk!

No phone, a movie, a glass of wine, and some salad. Perfect!

Someone needs to take my phone when i’m drunk because I am a fucking idiot.

Train your mind to enjoy life without alcohol.