Marriage is like wine. It is not be properly judged until the second glass.
When a private talk over a bottle of wine is broadcast on the radio, what can it mean but that the world is turning into a concentration camp?
[I]t is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to sing at the top of his lungs, laugh like a fool – it drives the man to dancing. . . it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.
I took up French boys and wine and I studied psychology.
A bottle of wine contains more philosophy than all the books in the world.
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Bad news isn't wine. It doesn't improve with age.
I have to drink wine before I go on stage. That is still part of the ritual, the ceremony. I usually go for a Cabernet or a Merlot. You're at the mercy of promoters who try to cut corners, so you don't always get the best wines in the world. But I look at the wine as being medicinal. It's not there to be enjoyed, it's part of my preparation for a show.
Wise men, like wine, are best when old; pretty women, like bread, are best when young.
Wine has been with civilized man from the beginning.
Once we hit forty, women only have about four taste buds left: one for vodka, one for wine, one for cheese, and one for chocolate.
There are two reasons for drinking wine. . . when you are thirsty, to cure it; the other, when you are not thirsty, to prevent it. . . prevention is better than cure.
Always keep a bottle of Champagne in the fridge for special occasions. Sometimes, the special occasion is that you've got a bottle of Champagne in the fridge.
In real life, I don't fall in love with the guy who wines and dines me, I fall in love with the flaws and the humanity.
Come boy, and pour for me a cup Of old Falernian. Fill it up With wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear; Our host decrees no water here. Let dullards drink the Nymph's pale brew, The sluggish thin their blood with dew. For such pale stuff we have no use; For us the purple grape's rich juice. Begone, ye chilling water sprite; Here burning Bacchus rules tonight! Catullus, Selections From Catullus No poems can live long or please that are written by water-drinkers.
They say "Wine is Satan's falcon,"; apparently he uses it in hunting men!
Wine is a terrible foe, hard to wrestle with.
By day, or on a cloudless night, a pilot may drink the wine of the gods, but it has an earthly taste; he's a god of the earth, like one of the Grecian deities who lives on worldly mountains and descended for intercourse with men. But at night, over a stratus layer, all sense of the planet may disappear. You know that down below, beneath that heavenly blanket is the earth, factual and hard. But it's an intellectual knowledge; it's a knowledge tucked away in the mind; not a feeling that penetrates the body.
Here is a tip for all you young people drinking wine. With pasta, drink white wine. With steak, drink red wine. And if you're vegan, you're annoying.
Everything comes to an end. A good bottle of wine, a summer’s day, a long-running sitcom, one’s life, and eventually our species. The question for many of us is not that everything will come to an end but when. And can we do anything vaguely useful until it does?
