I love being chubby because chicks that smoke pot love me. They think I have food at my house.
Marijuana will be legal some day, because the many law students who now smoke pot will someday become congressmen and legalize it in order to protect themselves.
Rest assured that the most fervid revivalism will wear itself out in mere smoke, if it be not maintained by the fuel of teaching.... Sound teaching is the best protection for the heresies which ravage right and left among us.
You can't smoke in a restaurant in Los Angeles, which is mildly ironic, when you consider the fact that you can't breathe outside a restaurant in Los Angeles.
I did smoke a joint and I did inhale. The bottom line is that's what it was in the '70s, that's what I did.
I do like to smoke pot. I think it's good.
I think tobacco and alcohol warnings are too general. They should be more to the point: 'People who smoke will eventually cough up small pieces of lung.'... And 'Warning!! Alcohol will turn you into the same jerk your father was.'
I wanna smoke pot, but I can't, cause I'm too paranoid.
The Law is not in fault, but our evil and wicked nature; even as a heap of lime is still and quiet until water is poured on it, but then it begins to smoke and burn, not from the fault of the water, but from the nature of the lime, which will not endure it.
The U.S. has always been a contradiction. It's always been a deeply protectionist, institutional place, where you're not allowed to smoke, and you're not allowed to do this, and you're not allowed to do that. And then, on the other hand, it's completely libertarian in a way. So it's got this weird mixture of being incredibly authoritarian and incredibly open at the same time.
Books were always important. I have to thank my father, he filled my life with books. He didn't write but he always read. He was a merchant, he filled the store with cigarette smoke and his friends, all talking about books and politics. It was bad for business. He dealt in women's clothing.
I think Rihanna always looks so fresh and I'm like, "How do you do that? We all know how much pot you smoke!"
Do they think that they have given us great pleasure by telling us that they hold our soul to be no more than wind or smoke, and saying it moreover in tones of pride and satisfaction? Is this then something to be said gaily? Is it not on the contrary something to be said sadly, as being the saddest thing in the world?
I have only one moral precept; never smoke more than five cigars at a time.
If you go to Paris you know more about reality than people who don't. If you smoke DMT you know more about reality than people who don't.
It is true that when you smoke DMT, for example, at a sufficiently high and prepared dose, you get elves, everybody does. All you need do, is inhale deeply three times, and you know... You want contact? You want elves? You want alien contact? You'll have that!
I'll go to church with anyone who's willing to smoke pot and look through a telescope with me.
Surely where there's smoke there's fire? No, where there's so much smoke there's smoke.
I won't have to miss smoking any more. Nobody smokes where I'm going: It's like a row of restaurants in California.
A cigarette is a roll of paper, tobacco, and drugs, with a small fire on one end and a large fool at the other. Some of its chief benefits are cancer of the lips and stomach, softening of the brain, funeral procesions, and families shrouded in gloom and grief. Although a great many people know this, they still smoke in order to appear sophisticated.
I smoke a little pot, every day, and I'm healthy as can be.
As soon as I discovered weightlifting, all I wanted to do - my plan in life - was to work out, lay on the beach, and get high... smoke dope. And that's really what I'm doing.
You can smoke marijuana, you can eat it, you can wear it, it's a perfect plant!
All I want to do is yoga and hike, and smoke weed. It's funny.
The second show [Judas Priest] there was a point where I stood back. We had a 40-foot ramp that went out into the crowd. Rob came out on the bike. It was raining. He drove the bike to the end of the ramp. I'm standing there looking at him. Rain coming down. Lights flashing. Blue smoke everywhere from the bike. He's on the bike with his metal horns in the air, and there were 30,000 people in front of him screaming. I remember thinking, "This is real."
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