Quotes About Intoxication

brother kicked my shin to silence me. Neighbor Goad's face deepened to purple. "Come again, mother-whelp?" "He's tipsy, Mr. Goad, sir," my brother muttered. "And green," he added, pinching

Juovuksissa taas, ja onko olemassa muuta kuin ikävä tyhjyydestä pois.

After we had drunk the sherry I bought cider for us, and we were a little tipsy as we swayed on the high stools and looked out at the rain as it fell on the fields that shot past the train. But being tipsy we did not see very much and the rain did not touch us.

Un bébé titube avec des gestes d'ivrogne. Charmant, ce bébé, pas dangereux, pas jugeur de Juifs. Envie de l'embrasser. Non, trop blond, antisémite dans vingt ans.

I suddenly became strangely inebriated. The external world became changed as in a dream. Objects appeared to gain inrelief; they assumed unusual dimensions; and colors became more glowing. Even self-perception and the sense of time were changed. When the eyes were closed, colored pictures flashed past in a quickly changing kaleidoscope. After a few hours, the not unpleasant inebriation, which had been experienced whilst I was fully conscious, disappeared. what had caused this condition?

One that hath wine as a chain about his wits, such a one lives no life at all.

People intoxicate themselves with work so they won't see how they really are.

Beauty is worse than wine, it intoxicates both the holder and beholder.

Nothing is easier than to sit, like Father Matthew,[17] in the seat of judgement and condemn drunkenness, while you are yourself intoxicated with sobriety;

They say that secrets live at the bottom of a wine bottle. Mama had made it there the night before, slow glass by slow glass, but she'd never spoken a word.

Fred put away the phone, finished off his bourbon, and resumed watching the couple suck on the combined mass of their two tongues. He wasn't as drunk as them. Or as young. Or as stupid. He envied them on every score.

Did you ever see a bee lying drunk on a rose? Lost in the petal, so close you can't see its tiny burrowing. In this way, I hang as I can. As close as I can.

As the Apocalyptic woman has in her hand a CUP, wherewith she intoxicates the nations, so was it with the Babylon of old. Of that Babylon, while in all its glory, the Lord thus spake, in denouncing its doom by the prophet Jeremiah: "Babylon hath been a GOLDEN CUP in the Lord's hand, that made all the earth drunken: the nations have drunken of her wine; therefore the nations are mad" (Jer. ii. 7).

Oh! my friend, when you feel bursting on your lips the vow of eternal love, do not be afraid to yield, but do not confound wine with intoxication; do not think the cup divine because the draft is of celestial flavor; do not be astonished to find it broken and empty in the evening.

The fumes of wine fermented in my head; it was one of those moments of intoxication when all that ones sees and hears, speaks to one of the adored.... One would willingly embrace all who smile, and one feels that he is brother of all who live.

Qu'importe le flacon, pourvu qu'on ait l'ivresse ?

Blessed is the era that can honestly claim that it is not a desert wilderness. Woe, however, to the era in which the voices calling in the wilderness have fallen silent, shouted down by the noise of the day, or prohibited, or drowned in the intoxication with progress, or restricted and quiet out of fear and cowardice.

I never thought I was wasted, but I probably was.

Come, for my part I will have only those glorious, manly pleasures of being very drunk, and very slovenly.

The first snort of coke, the first taste of a woman, the first sip of scotch: every high is different, but somehow the same.

Niet te geloven dat ik knaap nog een vers schreef over de zilverwitheid van een berkestam en om mij heen grootse dronkenschap van de bevrijding: het water was whisky geworden. Alles zoop en naaide, heel Europa was een groot matras en de hemel het plafond van een derderangshotel. En ik bedeesde jongeling moest nodig de reine berk bezingen en zijn bescheiden bladerpracht.

She was flushed and felt intoxicated with the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor. It muddled her like wine, or like a first breath of freedom.

My manias, at least in their early and mild forms, were absolutely intoxicating states that gave rise to great personal pleasure, an incomparable flow of thoughts, and a ceaseless energy that allowed the translation of new ideas into papers and projects. Medications not only cut into these fast-flowing times, they also brought with them seemingly intolerable side effects.

One minute we were sitting up, making out. The next we were lying on the roof, and I was on top of him, and I didn't know how I got there. I was kissing him and then, all of a sudden, I wasn't. He was holding my face in his hands, poised above his, as he panted softly, his pupils so huge I could drown in them. "Hate to ask," he said, struggling for breath. "How much did you drink?