I love drinking now and then. It defecates the standing pool of thought. A man perpetually in the paroxysm and fears of inebriety is like a half-drowned stupid wretch condemned to labor unceasingly in water; but a now-and-then tribute to Bacchus is like the cold bath, bracing and invigorating.
There's some are fou o' love divine; There's some are fou o' brandy.
See Social-life and Glee sit down, All joyous and unthinking, Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown Debauchery and Drinking
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