No, Lord Maccon was riproaring, tumble down, without a doubt, pickled beyond the gherkin.
A drunkard is like a whiskey-bottle, all neck and belly and no head.
Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion.
Dead drunk is the term I think of, insensible, neither cool nor warm, without a head or a foot. To be drunk is to be intimate with a fool.
To describe drunkenness for the colorful vocabulary is rather cynical. There is nothing easier than to capitalize on drunkards.
Just as the results of inebriety are most painful to the habitually sober, and just as the greatest saints have often been the greatest sinners, so, when the first class brain does something stupid, the stupidity of that occasion is colossal.
Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.
He that is drunken * * * Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill Did with his liquor slide into his veins.
A drunkard clasp his teeth and not undo 'em, To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.
