Wine Quotes - Page 38

• What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you." "Why? Was kissing me that bad?" A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Sorry, Thinking About You, Kissing

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• He knew that Hop-Frog was not fond of wine; for it excited the poor cripple almost to madness; and madness is no comfortable feeling.

  Edgar Allan Poe

  Feelings, Frogs, Madness

  Edgar Allan Poe, Stuart Levine, Susan Levine (1976). “The Short Fiction of Edgar Allan Poe: An Annotated Edition”, p.264, University of Illinois Press

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• Haunted Gulp down your wine, old friends of mine, Roar through the darkness, stamp and sing And lay ghost hands on everything, But leave the noonday's warm sunshine To living lads for mirth and wine. I met you suddenly down the street, Strangers assume your phantom faces, You grin at me from daylight places, Dead, long dead, I'm ashamed to greet Dead men down the morning street.

  Robert Graves

  Morning, Sunshine, Men

  Robert Graves (1920). “Country Sentiment”

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• What is meditation?... It is fleeing from the self, it is a short escape of the agony of being a self, it is a short numbing of the senses against the pain and the pointlessness of life. The same escape, the same short numbing is what the driver of an ox-cart finds in the inn, drinking a few bowls of rice wine or fermented coconut-milk.

  Hermann Hesse

  Pain, Drinking, Self

  Fyodor Dostoevsky, Jane Austen, Lewis Carroll, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (2014). “The 10 Greatest Books of All Time”, p.1457, Google Publishing

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• I do have some leftover chicken and pasta. (Grace) And wine?...That’s acceptable (Julian) Look, buster, I’m not your cooking wench. Mess with me and I’ll feed you Alpo. (Grace)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Grace, Cooking, Looks

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• In war," answered the weaver, "the strong make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us such mean wages that we die. We toil for them all day long, and they heap up gold in their coffers, and our children fade away before their time, and the faces of those we love become hard and evil. We tread out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We have chains, though no eye beholds them; and are slaves, though men call us free.

  Oscar Wilde

  Love, Strong, Children

  Oscar Wilde (2007). “The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde”, p.250, Wordsworth Editions

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• For I shall learn from flower and leaf, That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.

  Sara Teasdale

  Grief, Flower, Color

  Sara Teasdale, William Drake (1984). “Mirror of the Heart: Poems of Sara Teasdale”, MacMillan Publishing Company

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• My love for him had never gone away but only changed, growing deeper like wine fermenting or pickles curing. It bore into me with the pervasiveness of water working its way to the center of a mountain.

  Lisa See

  Gone Away, Water, Mountain

  Lisa See (2011). “Peony in Love”, p.190, A&C Black

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• Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the wine." -Edward

  Stephenie Meyer

  Bouquets, Enjoy, Resisting

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• Humans! They lived in a world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water! A mere quantum-mechanistic tunnel effect, that'd happen anyway if you were prepared to wait zillions of years. As if the turning of sunlight into wine, by means of vines and grapes and time and enzymes, wasn't a thousand times more impressive and happened all the time.

  Terry Pratchett

  Flower, Mean, Tunnels

  Terry Pratchett (2016). “Seriously Funny: The Endlessly Quotable Terry Pratchett”, p.87, Random House

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• I cried for madder music and for stronger wine.

  Ernest Dowson

  Stronger, Cried

  Ernest Christopher Dowson, Desmond Flower, Henry Maas (1968). “The Letters of Ernest Dowson”, p.185, Fairleigh Dickinson Univ Press

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• Every season is likeable, and wet days and fine, red wine and white, company and solitude. Even sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life, can be full of dreams; and the most common actions──a walk, a talk, solitude in one’s own orchard──can be enhanced and lit up by the association of the mind. Beauty is everywhere, and beauty is only two finger’s-breadth from goodness.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Sleep, Two

  "The Common Reader". Book by Virginia Woolf, 1925.

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• Nay, Sir, it was not the WINE that made your head ache, but the SENSE that I put into it' 'What, Sir! will sense make the head ache?' 'Yes, Sir, (with a smile,) when it is not used to it.

  James Boswell

  Used, Made, Ache

  James Boswell (1804). “The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.: Comprehending an Account of His Studies, and Numerous Works ... and Various Original Pieces ... Never Before Published ...”, p.410

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• my greatest problem was stamps, envelopes, paper and wine, with the world on the edge of World War II.

  Charles Bukowski

  War, World, Paper

  Charles Bukowski (2012). “The Pleasures of the Damned: Selected Poems 1951-1993”, p.364, Canongate Books

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• He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn't been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Like a fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. "It's always unwise to shoot the man you're in love with.

  Anne Stuart

  Beautiful, Blessed, Eye

  Anne Stuart (2012). “The Devil's Waltz”, p.254, Harlequin

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• A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine glasses.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Morning, Coffee, Glasses

  Ernest Hemingway (2016). “A Farewell to Arms”, p.139, Hamilton Books

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• One corner of his mouth crooked up, then the quirk vanished in a thoughtful pursing of his lips. "He's bisexual, you know." He took a delicate sip of his wine. "Was bisexual," she corrected absently, looking fondly across the room. "Now he's monogamous." Vordarian choked, sputtering.

  Lois McMaster Bujold

  Bisexual, Thoughtful, Mouths

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• Capturing the beauty of the conversion of the water into wine, the poet Alexander Pope said, "The conscious water saw its Master and blushed." That sublime description could be reworked to explain each one of these miracles. Was it any different in principle for a broken body to mend at the command of its Maker? Was it far-fetched for the Creator of the universe, who fashioned matter out of nothing, to multiply bread for the crowd? Was it not within the power of the One who called all the molecules into existence to interlock them that they might bear His footsteps?

  Ravi Zacharias

  Water, Broken, Miracle

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• Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.

  Susanna Clarke

  Drunk, Magic, Used

  Susanna Clarke (2009). “The Ladies of Grace Adieu: and Other Stories”, p.24, A&C Black

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• Only that I insist upon your dining with us. It will be ready in half an hour. I have oysters and a brace of grouse, with something a little choice in white wines. Watson, you have never yet recognized my merits as a housekeeper. ~ Sherlock Holmes

  Arthur Conan Doyle

  Oysters, White, Choices

  Arthur Conan Doyle (2016). “All about Sherlock Holmes”, p.177, "Издательство ""Проспект"""

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• Bring the pure wine of love and freedom. But sir, a tornado is coming. More wine, we'll teach this storm A thing or two about whirling.

  Rumi

  Spiritual, Two, Storm

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• The Z’s will kill us all, and then the Z’s will die out and in sixty years there will be no one to remember our silly war, Caroline’s wasted ammunition, my year of zombic survivalism, Rene DesCartes’s musings, or Michelangelo’s sculptures. And that is really only the sadness here as I drink a thousand-dollar bottle of wine down here in the cellar: We did a few things worth remembering, and I wish for someone to remember them.

  John Green

  War, Silly, Sadness

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• Of course I am grateful, and I'm sure you are, as you put it, a special vintage," Bill said politely, "But I have my own wine cellar.

  Charlaine Harris

  Grateful, Vintage, Special

  Charlaine Harris (2001). “Dead Until Dark: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel”, p.160, Penguin

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• Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet.

  Stephenie Meyer

  Twilight, Mean, Appreciate

  "Twilight". Book by Stephenie Meyer, October 5, 2005.

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• There, Master Niketas,’ Baudolino said, ‘when I was not prey to the temptations of this world, I devoted my nights to imagining other worlds. A bit with the help of wine, and a bit with that of the green honey. There is nothing better than imagining other worlds,’ he said, ‘to forget the painful one we live in. At least so I thought then. I hadn’t yet realized that, imagining other worlds, you end up changing this one.

  Umberto Eco

  Night, Other Worlds, Temptation

  Umberto Eco (2003). “Baudolino”, p.99, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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