Quotes About Champagne

Poetic simile was strictly limited to statements like 'his mighty steed was as fleet as the wind on a fairly calm day, say about Force Three,' and any loose talk about a beloved having a face that launched a thousand ships would have to be backed by evidence that the object of desire did indeed look like a bottle of champagne.

I am a 'champagne socialist,' and I'm proud of it.

Colder than the nipple on a witch's tit! Colder than a bucket of penguin shit! Colder than the hairs of a polar bear's ass! Colder than the frost on a champagne glass!

Every night is Christmas Eve on old East Main, Sailors and their sweethearts all agree. Neon signs of red and green Shine upon the friendly scene, Welcoming you in from off the sea. Santa's bag is filled with all your dreams come true: Nickel beers that sparkle like champagne, Barmaids who all love to screw, All of them reminding you It's Christmas Eve on old East Main.

The air was a delicate cocktail of things foreign and familiar; both damply green and faintly musty; as sea-soaked as the oysters, as crisply refreshing as the champagne.

There is this image of a guy in a hot tub, drinking champagne with two buxom blondes. But that is not the real me. I am a father, and I am a grandfather, too.

Drop that towel, and I'll throw in champagne." "Tempting." She made her way toward her bedroom. "But since I might be pregnant, I couldn't drink." He gave a long sigh. "And with those chilling words, the raging fire in his loins vanished.

My glass is not only half-full, it holds five-hundred-dollar-a-bottle Dom Perignon champagne.

He didn't just break her neck," Scythe Goddard pointed out. "He unflinchingly snapped her spine! Everyone heard it. I'm sure it woke up the scythes sleeping in the back row!" "Classic!" said Scythe Chomsky, guzzling his champagne down, not waiting for the toast.

I hate champagne more than anything in the world next to Seven-Up.

bubbles rose over the Champagne Orchestra and Lawrence Welk came onstage salaaming in every direction, crying out declarations of humility in his unctuous, brain-scalding Swedish kazoo of a voice.

I'm an outlaw, not a philosopher, but I know this much: there's meaning in everything, all things are connected, and a good champagne is a drink.' Bernard began to sing again. Timidly, Leigh-Cheri joined in. Between verses, they opened another bottle. The popping of its cork echoed throughout the great stone chamber. Of the three billion people on earth, only Bernard and Leigh-Cheri heard the popping of the cork and its echoes. Only Bernard and Leigh-Cheri passed out under the tablecloth.

It was wonderful, Pris. What was, honey? The meeting? The champagne? The eclipse, said Ricki. It was probably the most real thing I've ever seen, but it was also like a dream. You know what I mean? Real and unreal, beautiful and strange, like a dream. It got me high as a kite, but it didn't last long enough. It ended too soon and left nothing behind. That's how it is with dreams, said Priscilla. They're the perfect crime.

O shoe, leather ship that sails our cement rivers and woven seas, steering by the star of fashion, circumnavigating hostile reefs of tar and bubble gum; one hour, a tanker ferrying champagne to a playboy's sip; the next, a raft in the slime; bon voyage, bright barge! May you dock in calm closets, safe from the rape of shoe trees.

Now I'd fallen into it like a drunk hobo falling into a vat of champagne.

I'm an outlaw not a philosopher, but I know this much: there's meaning in everything, all things are connected, and a good champagne is a drink.

Champagne,' she added to the hovering wine waiter. 'The Widow '23.

I got to go! Bye!" "You're ammmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaazing—" Click. This time when she put her cell phone back down, she felt as light and frothy as the bubbles in a champagne flute. And a little drunk, too.

The champagne is already flat.  The sparkle and bubble has gone out and it is a tasteless drink.

Name it after that blind monk—what was his name?" "Dom Pérignon, who said drinking champagne is like tasting the stars.

Have you finished your tea? I want to show you the painting." "Monsieur," Cécile said. "Unless I am drinking champagne, I am always finished.

I love cocktails. My specialty drink is a gimlet with a little egg white in it so it gets frothy. I really like rose water - sometimes I'll add it to champagne.

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

The advertise their products in such a fashion as to make it seem wonderful to drink their ethanol products. It does not matter if they give their products fancy name like Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Noir, or if they put bubbles in an ethanol product and call it champagne or beer- everyone is selling ethanol.