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I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
read more
I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return,--Get very drunk; and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more
. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as read more
I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would
stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and
presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest,
and the ingredient is a devil.
(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught read more
(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught
above heat makes him a fool, the seconds mads him, and a third
drowns him.
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
read more
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious knavery does thou come
To start my quiet.
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
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Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings.
Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day.
Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day.