Quotes on Beer

He only employs his passion who can make no use of his reason.

Teaching has ruined more American novelists than drink.

Whenever the devil harasses you, seek the company of men or drink more, or joke and talk nonsense, or do some other merry thing. Sometimes we must drink more, sport, recreate ourselves, and even sin a little to spite the devil, so that we leave him no place for troubling our consciences with trifles. We are conquered if we try too conscientiously not to sin at all. So when the devil says to you: do not drink, answer him: I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.

Drunkenness does not create vice; it merely brings it into view.

I'm only a beer teetotaler, not a champagne teetotaler; I don't like beer.

The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books.

How much disgruntled heaviness, lameness, dampness, how much beer is there in the German intelligence.

And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.

Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it thousands of times.

We'd just shared the last beer and slung the empty can out the window at a stop sign and were just waiting back to get the feel of the day, swimming in that kind of tasty drowsiness that comes over you after a day of going hard at something you enjoy doing -- half sunburned and half drunk and keeping awake only because you wanted to savor the taste as long as you could.

It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to practice either of them.

To clink glasses of a freshly made, seasonal beer, preferably in a pub or garden, with friends and perhaps new acquaintances, is a ritual that makes every participant feel good. We may not rationalize this at the time, but it gives us a sense of place in our common community and our time in the tides of life on earth. This is a way to value beer and treat it with respect.

I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old men and old women warmer in the winter and happier in the summer.

Cub fans, by consensus, are the best in baseball. Year after year, in good times and (mostly) bad, they turn out in vociferous numbers, sustaining themselves with a heavenly ichor that combines loyalty, criticism, cheerfulness, durability, rage, beer and hope, in exquisite proportions.

This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.

Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.

And I will make it felony to drink small beer.

So long as they (the Proles) continued to work and breed, their other activities were without importance. Left to themselves, like cattle turned loose upon the plains of Argentina, they had reverted to a style of life that appeared to be natural to them, a sort of ancestral pattern...Heavy physical work, the care of home and children, petty quarrels with neighbors, films, football, beer and above all, gambling filled up the horizon of their minds. To keep them in control was not difficult.

I wrote at the start that this was a record of hate, and walking there beside Henry towards the evening glass of beer, I found the one prayer that seemed to serve the winter mood: O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever.

I am not an Athenian or a Greek, but a citizen of the world.

I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear,_x000D_ _x000D_ After so much reciting:_x000D_ _x000D_ So, if you don't object, my dear,_x000D_ _x000D_ We'll try a glass of bitter beer -_x000D_ _x000D_ I think it looks inviting.