Quotes About Wine

I desire only the long ecstasy of wine, And desire not to awaken.

Life is an immense dream. Why toil? All day long I drowse with wine, And lie by the post at the front door. Awakening, I gaze upon the garden trees, And, hark, a bird is singing among the flowers. Pray, what season may this be? Ah, the songster's a mango-bird, Singing to the passing wind of spring. I muse and muse myself to sadness, Once more I pour my wine, and singing aloud, Await the bright moonrise. My song is ended-- What troubled my soul?--I remember not.

And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine, Since the world can in no way answer our craving, I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat.

AMUSING MYSELF Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk, Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes. Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream, Birds are far off, people too are few.

To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows, We drained a hundred jugs of wine. A splendid night it was . . . . In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed, But at last drunkenness overtook us; And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain, The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet

My little boat is made of ebony; My flute stops are pure gold. Water loosens stains from silk; Wine loosens sadness from the heart. With good wine, a graceful boat, And a sweet girl's love, Why be jealous of mere gods?

On the surface, I seem to be glad of new people; But doomed to leave old friends behind me, I cry out from my heart for Shin-Fêng wine To melt away my thousand woes.

Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial.

It's excellent." Lars took another sip, trying to get the full picture. Wine could fool you: all sunshine and apples and spaghetti and then nothing but sour disappointment and empty promises.

chatting about character development over Chardonnay.

She picked up her tea and took it over to the table. Why had she given up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She'd given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge staring at it longingly. The power of denial.

The lie tasted of brass, and she suddenly longed for a glass of decent wine and an exceedingly sensational and frivolous novel, read in the comfort of her own bed.

Wine is sort of thrilling and sensual, and bread is familiar and essential.

It's from an Amy Lowell poem we all loved in college. Wine is sort of thrilling and sensual, and bread is familiar and essential.' 'Wine, I suppose.' 'Would it have turned to bread?

People are always wine to me, never bread

At three I was in my little kitchen preparing a dish of formaggio all' Argentiera . I fried slices of caciocavallo cheese with garlic until it had just melted and then sprinkled this with wine vinegar and fresh oregano before piling it onto a thick slice of rustic bread.

I poured myself another glass of wine (white, now warm and disgusting, but I was in a masochistic mood)

One should not chug an entire glass of wine at an elegant dinner party. I start hacking and coughing, having practically water-boarded myself out of sheer humiliation.

He tried to imagine what it had been like to be Hemingway, in Paris, in the 1920s. To write those clear, seemingly unadorned, yet complex sentences that would change forever the way Americans wrote prose. To do all that and then go out to dinner where you knew how to order the perfect seasonal wine to go with your huîtres. To be an American in Paris back when it was O.K. to be American.

She pulled out her phone to take pictures, then picked up the bottle of wine, and looked a question at Daisy. We only needed one cup for the rice, right? Examining the bottle, she asked, Is this wine just for cooking, or is it okay to drink? Oh, that's actually important, said Daisy. Don't ever buy cooking wine at the supermarket. Never, ever cook with a wine you wouldn't drink.

Wein, alles, was sich gekühlt besser hält, wurde in diesen Katakomben gehandelt.

Now, I will drink no German beer. The white wine of the country, with a little soda-water; perhaps occasionally a glass of Ems or potash. But beer, never — or, at all events, hardly ever." It is a good and useful resolution, which I recommend to all travellers. I

But work a year and sleep an hour, and sleep a night and sing a day, And take a little wine and love, and when you feel religious—pray.

I think voice is like a good wine. If you work it well, it will mature.