Quotes About Drunk

A man is never drunk if he can lay on the floor without holding on.

I mean, look, no matter how you feel about Bush, watching him speak is difficult. It's like- it's like watching a drunk man cross an icy street.

Imagination is like the drunk man who lost his watch and must get drunk again to find it.

...Whose souls, albeit in a cloudy memory, yet seek back their good, but, like drunk men, know not the road home.

Cara: I just found a delightful account of a case against a wizard who once fancied getting drunk, marching down to the market on Stentor Street, hiking up his robes to random women and commanding them to kiss the serpent.

Playing new songs at festivals is weird, obviously. People at festivals are always a bit drunk, and probably just want to hear stuff they know by bands they love, or are checking you out and don't know your stuff very well.

I think if you're fame-hungry, go out to a nightclub and get drunk... why do that? I don't understand how some people would want fame so bad that they'd go out and get negative attention to earn it.

When I was really drunk, I started that stupid business with the bullet in my guts again. I was the only guy at the bar with a bullet in their guts. I kept putting my hand under my jacket, on my stomach and all, to keep the blood from dripping all over the place. I didn't want anybody to know I was even wounded. I was concealing the fact that I was a wounded sonuvabitch….

I watched a lot of drunk players, too, I learned from the autobiographies published after they had retired.

but those mostly tourists or crazies. Man called Teek got himself stupid drunk

With the careful steps of the drunk

The falling flakes were random and without purpose; the snow was drunker than she was.

Chumbawamba, a British pop group who promoted Marxist pacifist anarchy, had a massive Top 10 single about getting drunk and falling down.

When you're an addict, you can go without feeling anything except drunk or stoned or hungry. Still, when you compare this to other feelings, to sadness, anger, fear, worry, despair, and depression, well, an addiction no longer looks so bad. It looks like a very viable option.

Daytime television, you can tell who's watching by the three kinds of commercials. Either it's clinics for drying out drunks. Or it's law firms who want to settle injury suits. Or it's schools offering mail-order vocational degrees to make you a bookkeeper. A private detective. Or a locksmith. If you're watching daytime television, this is your new demographic. You're a drunk. Or a cripple. Or an idiot.

When you go out with a drunk, you'll notice how a drunk fills your glass so he can empty his own. As long as you're drinking, drinking is okay.

The man's head nodded to his chest; he looked like a drunk who had dozed off. But it was an act.

I put everything into my poetry that I should have put into my life, and now it's too late for me to start all over again. The only thought that occurs to me at the moment is that in the final reckoning it's better to have been sanguine by temperament, a man of action, and if you must get drunk do it properly and smash the place up.

Annabelle Archer!" A shrill voice came from above us. "I spoke too soon." Kate fumbled with her shoes as she tried to wedge her feet back in them. We all turned around to greet Mrs. Pierce as she barreled unsteadily down the stairs toward us, a mass of overly bouffant blond hair and turquoise chiffon. "Lord have mercy, she's drunk as a skunk!

POSSIBLE OPENERS AFTER YOU'VE GOTTEN DRUNK AND SLEPT IN YOUR GUY ROOMMATE'S BED (A LIST): 1. Hey, Drew, thanks for letting me sleep in your bed. I hope I didn't puke all over your sheets. 2. What do you mean? I slept in your bed? Really? I don't remember any of it, I was so wasted. 3. Thanks for not trying to molest me.

Having made, at least, this one hit, whatever it might prove to be worth, and no customers coming in to help him to any other, Mr. Barsad paid for what he had drunk, and took his leave: taking occasion to say, in a genteel manner, before he departed, that he looked forward to the pleasure of seeing Monsieur and Madame Defarge again.

I remembered Tucker telling me that luck was no lady; luck was a mean drunk who didn't know when to stop punching.

Poetry staggers amongst stars, drunk on the night.

I don't want comedy to be Bridesmaids 2. I'm not denigrating Bridesmaids but, enough already, let's stop pretending women are incalculably different to us. Seeking out podcasts, listening on headphones, it's like an intimate, specific conversation. People respond if it feels from the heart. I'm as neurotic a human being as lives, and I have my faults. I'm a drunk. But people really like that.