Wine brings to light the hidden secrets of the soul, gives being to our hopes, bids the coward flight, drives dull care away, and teaches new means for the accomplishment of our wishes.
No poem was ever written by a drinker of water.
Wine brings to light the hidden secrets of the soul.
Be smart, drink your wine.
Who after wine, talks of wars hardships or of poverty.
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.
Let those who drink not, but austerely dine, dry up in law; the Muses smell of wine.
It was a wine jar when the molding began: as the wheel runs round why does it turn out a water pitcher?
The cask will long retain the flavour of the wine with which it was first seasoned.
Think of the wonders uncorked by wine! It opens secrets, gives heart to our hopes, pushes the cowardly into battle, lifts the load from anxious minds, and evokes talents. Thanks to the bottle's prompting no one is lost for words, no one who's cramped by poverty fails to find release.
What wonders does not wine! It discloses secrets; ratifies and confirms our hopes; thrusts the coward forth to battle; eases the anxious mind of its burden; instructs in arts. Whom has not a cheerful glass made eloquent! Whom not quite free and easy from pinching poverty!
The drunkard is convicted by his praises of wine.
Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?
Not even for an hour can you bear to be alone, nor can you advantageously apply your leisure time, but you endeavor, a fugitive and wanderer, to escape from yourself, now vainly seeking to banish remorse by wine, and now by sleep; but the gloomy companion presses on you, and pursues you as you fly.
Wine unlocks the breast.
Never inquire into another man's secret; bur conceal that which is intrusted to you, though pressed both be wine and anger to reveal it.
By wine eating cares are put to flight. [Lat., Vino diffugiunt mordaces curae.]
O drink is mighty! secrets it unlocks, Turns hope to fact, sets cowards on to box, Takes burdens from the careworn, finds out parts In stupid folks, and teaches unknown arts. What tongue hangs fire when quickened by the bowl? What wretch so poor but wine expands his soul?
Who prates of war or want after his wine? [Lat., Quis post vina gravem militiam aut pauperiem crepat?]
Betray not a secret even though racked by wine or wrath.
Now drown care in wine. [Lat., Nunc vino pellite curas.]
Smooth out with wine the worries of a wrinkled brow.
Pry not into the affairs of others, and keep secret that which has been entrusted to you, though sorely tempted by wine and passion.
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