I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.

There are hours for rest, and hours for wakefulness; nights for sobriety and nights for drunkenness_(if only so that possession of the former allows us to discern the latter when we have it; for sad as it is, no human body can be happily drunk all the time).

Wine and a straitjacket. That pretty much sums it up.

Writers are a product of where we come from but by looking at alternatives to the culture in which we live, we can find ways to change and hopefully improve it.

The good news is you survived. The bad news is you're hurt and no one can heal you but yourself.

Always carry a corkscrew and the wine shall provide itself.