A Quote by Joseph Addison
Wine displays every little spot of the soul in its utmost deformity.
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Wine heightens indifference into love, love into jealousy, and jealousy into madness. It often turns the good-natured man into an idiot, and the choleric into an assassin. It gives bitterness to resentment, it makes vanity insupportable, and displays every little spot of the soul in its utmost deformity.
Deformity of the heart I call
The worst deformity of all;
For what is form, or what is face,
But the soul's index, or its case?
There’s a lot of work being done today that doesn’t have any soul in it. The technique may be the utmost perfection, yet it is lifeless. It doesn’t have a soul. I hope my furniture has a soul to it.
Is that what the wine is for? To help you think?" "Oh, the wine. The wine, Costis, is to help hide the truth. It doesn't work. It never has, but I try it every once in a while just in case something in the nature of the wine might have changed.
From the moon, the Earth is so small and so fragile, and such a precious little spot in that Universe, that you can block it out with your thumb. Then you realize that on that spot, that little blue and white thing, is everything that means anything to you — all of history and music and poetry and art and death and birth and love, tears, joy, games, all of it right there on that little spot that you can cover with your thumb. And you realize from that perspective that you’ve changed forever, that there is something new there, that the relationship is no longer what it was.
If any man gives you a wine you can't bear, don't say it is beastly... But don't say you like it. You are endangering your soul and the use of wine as well... Seek out some other wine good to your taste.
The peace for which every soul strives and which is the true nature of God and the utmost goal of a man is but the outcome of harmony.
Burgundy was the winiest wine, the central, essential, and typical wine, the soul and greatest common measure of all the kindly wines of the earth.
Lovers drink wine all day and night and tear the veils of the mind.
When drunk with love's wine, body, heart and soul become one.
Physical deformity, calls forth our charity. But the infinite misfortune of moral deformity calls forth nothing but hatred and vengeance.
Don't you hate people who drink white wine? I mean, my dear, every alcoholic in town is getting falling-down drunk on white wine. They think they aren't drunks because they only drink wine. Never, never trust anyone who asks for white wine. It means they're phonies.
Some eschew wine for their religion; others just don't cotton to it. A slew of Americans consider wine a fancy-schmancy treat for special occasions. They do not understand the concept of daily wine. It's as though you insisted on confetti and a swing-band at every meal.
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.
Whatever is pure is also simple. It does not keep the eye on itself. The observer forgets the window in the landscape it displays. A fine style gives the view of fancy--its figures, its trees, or its palaces,--without a spot.
Raimund Hoghe is a little man with a spinal deformity who was once Pina Bausch's dramaturge.
Wine gives great pleasure, and every pleasure is of itself a good. and
A man should cultivate his mind so as to have that confidence and readiness without wine, which wine gives.
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