Quotes About Drunk

Every true poet is a monster. He destroys people and their speech. His singing elevates a technique that wipes out the earth so we are not eaten by worms. The drunk sells his coat. The thief sells his mother. Only the poet sells his soul to separate it from the body that he loves.

However, there was nobody missing, and after a brief inspection Mowett could report 'All present and sober, sir, if you please,' without more falsehood than could be borne, since the few hands who were still drunk by naval standards did not fall until after the inspection; and they were quietly slung on to camels' backs among the tents and seamen's bags.

In the long term everyone traffics in foregone conclusions, and in the short term they just get drunk. This is the way it has always been. Some half-assed ambiguity masquerading as mystery is all anybody's really looking for.

Listening to radio was like group meditation or a moment of silence in church. You can't get the same effect with TV unless you're very drunk.

Had he drunk a dozen bottles of claret, the old spinster could have pardoned him. Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan drank claret. Gentlemen drank claret. But eighteen glasses of gin consumed among boxers in an ignoble pot-house - it was an odious crime, and not to be pardoned readily.

I have drunk and seen the spider.

While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Your witness musta been drunk," Brady said. "Wasn't nobody with

I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly.

he was deeply annoyed at having to leave the fair before he was drunk, a thing that had never happened to him since he was ten.

and I remember being a little drunk and viewing the Place de la Concorde lit up at night and it was so beautiful, and I shook my fist at Paris like a character in Balzac and said wistfully, "You old whore.

I had just been introduced to wine and I remember being a little drunk and viewing the Place de la Concorde lit up at night and it was so beautiful, and I shook my fist at Paris like a character in Balzac and said wistfully, "You old whore." Unfortunately, I was facing a lady tourist from Detroit at the time and she didn't appreciate it.

I tell you, to be drunk on alcohol is disgraceful, but to be drunk on water is noble and ecstatic.

If rain is God crying, I think God is drunk and his girlfriend just slept with Zeus.

November 1998 - They were singing. They were drunk. They were happy. That was what Olivia recalled most, afterwards. How happy her friends had been

It occurred to him he was drunk as a flock of bridesmaids.

A drunk man, staggering and mindless, must be led home by his son, so wet is his psyche... Water brings death to the psyche, as earth brings death to water... The psyche lusts to be wet.

[The Persians] deliberate about the gravest matters when they are drunk.

If an important decision is to be made, they [the Persians] discuss the question when they are drunk, and the following day the master of the house where the discussion was held submits their decision for reconsideration when they are sober. If they still approve it, it is adopted; if not, it is abandoned. Conversely, any decision they make when they are sober, is reconsidered afterwards when they are drunk.

He gets Sir Francis round and gets him drunk. He, Cromwell, can trust himself; when he was young, he learned to drink with Germans.

Kiss me again,¨ he says, drunk and foolish. ¨Kiss me until I am sick of it.¨ I feel those words, feel them like a kick to the stomach. He sees my expression and laughs, a sound of full mockery. I cant tell which of us he´s laughing at. ¨He hates you. Even if he wants you, he hates you. Maybe he hates you the more for it.¨

It was just like Aleksander to steal even this from him, Gavriel thought. To treat the duel as a joke, to treat him as a joke. Now his only choices were to take aim at a man about to fall over or to bear the shame of crying off. And Aleksander would laugh at him later. I wasn't so very drunk, he would say. And if I was, so what? If you weren't such a milksop, then surely you'd have— Gavriel raised his pistol and shot his brother through the heart.

Have I drunk too much? Merely a cup of poison for my breakfast and another for my dinner," Cardan says.