alcohol

_, wine!, the truth-serum so potent that all those who wish to live happy lives should abstain from drinking it entirely!... except of course when they are alone.

I started to drink heavily, comfortably caught in the tentacle-like clutches of alcohol.

Parents drinking is the reason you came into the world, and if we didn't keep doing it then, by God, it would be the reason you went back out of it.

I'll drink your champagne. I'll drink every drop of it, I don't care if it kills me.

How many of us readers say this quote and mean it. "If I knew what I know now life would be different"....

That first drunk, first high, first sexual encounter, those feelings of first are the most intense, the best remembered, always impossible to attain again.

Sex had nothing to do with feeling good, everything to do with superficialities, and was always accompanied by a masochistic agenda to feel anything but dead inside.

Lovecraft says he knows about tentaclesbut that motherfucker never bedded a girl from West Chesterand survivedShe was a toothachethat oneand she tasted like crackthe best thing about her was if I was ever hungryI could always make a meal out of whateverwas making rest at the corners of her mouthI can't remember her nameas is the case with most of themthen again I can't rememberhow many donuts I ate this morningor how many beers I'll drink tonight,tomorrow

Stab your demoniac smile to my brain,Soak me in cognac, love, and cocaine

Remember my friend, uncontrolled alcohol, uncontrolled casual sex and mindless indoctrination are not signs of progress, they are signs of drowning into the abyss of mental and physical degradation.

He seemed to be lying on the bed. He could not see very well. Her youthful, rapacious face, with blackened eyebrows, leaned over him as he sprawled there.___ow about my present?_ she demanded, half wheedling, half menacing.__ever mind that now. To work! Come here. Not a bad mouth. Come here. Come closer. Ah!__o. No use. Impossible. The will but not the way. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Try again. No. The booze, it must be. See Macbeth. One last try. No, no use. Not this evening, I__ afraid.__ll right, Dora, don__ you worry. You__l get your two quid all right. We aren__ paying by results.__e made a clumsy gesture. __ere, give us that bottle. That bottle off the dressing-table.___ora brought it. Ah, that__ better. That at least doesn__ fail.

I have, he went on, betrayed myself withbelief, deluded myself with lovetricked myself with sex.the bottle is damned faithful, he said,the bottle will not lie

Lowkey punchdrunk off this Sangria-sweet love and all it__ prodigious trappings_

I am not your victim because you are not a predator any more than a bottle of scotch stalks an alcoholic.

I automatically assume people won't like me, so I don't talk to them unless they approach me first. I can't become a part of a crowd because I can't get past that feeling that I don't belong.

My dream was one day ordering a drink and finding out it tasted wonderful.

They sell courage of a sort in the taverns. And another sort, though not for sale, a man can find in the confessional. Try the alehouses and the churches, Hugh. In either a man can be quiet and think.

You were like fine wine, but cheap wine gets you drunk faster.