Quotes About Beer

I nodded and sipped my own. Wow. Mac's beer is an excellent argument that there is a God, and that furthermore, He wants us to be happy.

Kara Dukakis, one of the candidate's daughters, had at that moment emerged from the 737. "You'd have a beer with him?

The beer had the color and taste of baby's pee, but we followed our usual routine and drank with joyless discipline until we both passed out.

What if he's not a spy? We'll be killing the wrong man. Then it would be murder. Bon sipped his beer. First, he said, the General knows stuff we don't. Second, we're not killing. This is an assassination. Your guys did this all the time. Third, this is war. Innocent people get killed. It's only murder if you know they're innocent. Even so, that's a tragedy, not a crime.

I carried my pint to a corner table and sat just looking at it for a moment: the head of foam, the tiny bubbles ascending through clear gold, the droplets condensing on the sides of the glass, then running down to form a wet circle on the beer mat. Reputations are ruined, marriages destroyed, lifes works forsaken for the beauty of such a sight. There are seven thousand pubs in London.

Craft beers are a gift from God.

A BOILERMAKER KILLS GERMS DEAD. Where'd you get that idea? BOOK. WHAT'S BOILERMAKER? Travis said, A shot of whiskey dropped into a glass of beer. Einstein considered that for a moment. KILL GERMS BUT BECOME ALCOHOLIC. Travis laughed and ruffled Einstein's coat. You're a regular comedian, fur face. MAYBE I SHOULD PLAY VEGAS.

I pushed through the door into Kelly's. Inside they sat with their fat hands around their beers while the jukebox sang softly to itself. You'd think they'd found out how, by sitting still and holding their necks just so, to look down into lost worlds.

She was more like riding a sofa than a horse, with her broad back and sides curved like a hogshead of beer.

and every Wednesday the perfumed young lady slips me a hundred-crown note to leave her alone with the convict. And by Thursday the hundred crowns are already gone in so much beer. And when the visiting hour is over, the young lady comes out with the stink of jail in her elegant clothes; and the prisoner goes back to his cell with the lady's perfume in his jailbird's suit. And I'm left with the smell of beer. Life is nothing but trading smells.

With the smell of beer I try to get the smell of death off me. And only the smell of death will get the smell of beer off you, like all the drinkers whose graves I have to dig.

without a basic good glass of beer, properly drawn and presented, a saloon was merely a booze trough. And

They liked black ironwork here on Pyrites. They made everything out of it. Even the beer, judging by the taste.

He seemed to be having trouble remembering the steps, for he was pumping my arm and counting under his breath (one, two, three), and his breath smelled like the open maws of the pub cellars that grapes on Whitchurch pavements on delivery day. Beer.

On the way he stopped at Paillard, the marvelous bakery on rue St-Jean, and at a dépanneur for beer then headed up rue Ste-Ursule, pausing to check the address he'd been given, unconvinced he had it right. But no. There it was. 9¾ rue Ste-Ursule. He shook his head. 9¾.

The room erupted into laughter. Indeed, people laughed all the way through. When Brian told them about being in the psych ward and having his doctor ask how much he drank, and he told him a beer a day, the place went hysterical with laughter. Gamache and Beauvoir exchanged looks. Even the president was amused.

Tate opened another beer. He was glad he had several. He held up the beer to his image in the mirror. "To bastards everywhere!" he said sarcastically, and chugged it down.

I hate beer," she moaned. "If you drink enough of it, you won't care about the taste," he assured her. She gave the can a dubious stare, shrugged, closed her eyes, held her breath and drank heavily. "Yuck!" she said. "Keep going.

I watched Buford set things up and I decided that tending bar might be a pretty good way to spend one's life. Spanking down big foaming steins of beer to be encircled by the huge skeet-shooting hands of virile novelists. Rattling the cocktail shaker and doing a little samba step for the amusement of the ladies. To be an expert at something.

prohibition makes you want to cry into your beer and denies you the beer to cry into

Homecoming means parades, football and reuniting with old friends. And as I recall from my youth, a little beer.

They migrated to the usual room on the second floor. Heywood Broun was there by the door, setting up bottles of gin, scotch and beer. Alexander Woollcott sat ensconced behind the round table (not THE Round Table). He shuffled the cards and stacked up poker chips. Dorothy stopped in the doorway and watched what they were doing. 'You boys sure know how to treat a woman,' she said. 'Liquor in the front and poker in the rear.

They're just—happy." "About what?" She looked at the men, thinking. "Beer, sweetheart. They're happy about beer.

The men drink a third beer, then a fourth, in preparation for the cold trip crosstown. "I wish I could meet a decent woman." Howard, who has learned the great secret, and who after beer, is generous: "Go to a library.