He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts. (Shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, IV)
Satellite images, maps and blueprints of the whole world, of every city. We could look it up and know what's there in someone else's words. Or we could get wicked drunk and just go.
Do you find it easy to get drunk on words?" "So easy that, to tell you the truth, I am seldom perfectly sober.
All romantics meet the same fate some day. Drunk and cynical and boring someone in some dark cafe.
Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party. Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh.
Jack, you've debauched my sloth.
Well, if I am not drunk, I am mad," replied Syme with perfect calm; "but I trust I can behave like a gentleman in either condition.
Don't think I'm talking nonsense because I'm drunk. I'm not a bit drunk. Brandy's all very well, but I need two bottles to make me drunk.
It seemed that I performed better sober than drunk. Who knew?
Half-drunk on well-creamed gas station coffee and the exhilarating loneliness of a freeway in nighttime.
I thought you were a drunk." "A drunk?" "Bloodshot eyes, dirty clothes, getting home in the wee hours of the morning, making a lot of noise, grouchy all the time as if you had a hangover… what else was I to think?" He rubbed his face. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I should have showered, shaved, and dressed in a suit before I came out to tell you that you were making enough noise to raise the dead.
Your Majesty, you just-" Costis stopped. "Just what?" the king prompted wickedly. Nothing would induce Costis to say out loud that the king had almost fallen from the palace wall and that Costis had seen him manifestly saved by the God of Thieves. The king smiled. "Cat got your tongue?" "Your Majesty, you are drunk," Costis pleaded. "I am. What's your excuse?
Want to talk third-wave feminism, you could cite Ariel Levy and the idea that women have internalized male oppression. Going to spring break at Fort Lauderdale, getting drunk, and flashing your breasts isn't an act of personal empowerment. It's you, so fashioned and programmed by the construct of patriarchal society that you no longer know what's best for yourself. A damsel too dumb to even know she's in distress.
Unhappy man! Do you share my maddness? Have you drunk also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me; let me reveal my tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!
Acheron kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Rest. We'll be back when he needs you." He watched her climb into bed before he took his nephew down to his room. "Well, it appears to be just the two of us, little one. What say you we get naked, drunk and find us some wenches?" The baby actually smiled up at him as if he understood. Acheron nodded. "So that's it, eh? Barely a month old and you're already lecherous. You are your father's son.
Has anyone ever won an argument with you? (Syd) Just Tee, and I was drunk and wounded at the time. (Joe)
Half of them kept repeating my name, trying to get it right, while the other half laughed. But they were harmless. Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party: Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh. I remember those guys. Like the mascots of the party. "Clay! Whatcha doon here? Bah-ha-ha-ha!
I'm floating inside my skin. I could go on floating like this for days. Right now, the real world with its heartbreak and disappointments is just a pulse against the protective membrane we've drunk ourselves into. It's somewhere outside us, waiting." A Great and Terrible Beauty, Page 141, by
In the long term everyone traffics in foregone conclusions, and in the short term they just get drunk. This is the way it has always been. Some half-assed ambiguity masquerading as mystery is all anybody's really looking for.
...because really, sometimes the irony gods just get drunk.
Not to mention, we’re using you for bait. (Syn) Are you that drunk? (Nykyrian) What? I wasn’t supposed to tell her that? (Syn) I’m bait? (Kiara) No, you’re not bait. Ignore the alcoholic whose view of reality is distorted by his brain-damaged hallucinations. (Nykyrian)
Books are my friends, where it's okay to be silent, where you're not a freak if you don't want to get drunk, peel out in the parking lot, tip cows.
They've drunk everything in the house, including a pitcher of African violet plant food I'd just mixed up and was stupid enough to leave on the counter." Tremaine punched Eddie in the shoulder. "I told you it tasted weird." Eddie shrugged. "Tasted okay to me.
This is where Wulf’s people would get drunk and party for a week. All hail the Vikings, forerunners to the frat boys! (Chris)
You can party, but I better not catch you drunk. (Wulf) (Chris rolled his eyes, then bent down to said to Cassandra’s stomach...) Be wise, little guy, stay in there where Lord King Neurotic can’t kill all your fun. (Chris)
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