Wine hath drowned more men than the sea.
The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.
Those who are born of parents broken with old age, or of such as are not yet ripe or are too young, or of drunkards, soft or effeminate men, want a great and liberal ingenuity or wit.
Young men are apt to think themselves wise enough, as drunken men are apt to think themselves sober enough.
There is a special Providence that watches over idiots, drunken men, and boys.
I only worked on Men of Honor for three weeks, but I walked away with so much. Because Bob is the kind of actor who gives you the opportunity to really go there. And we really had to go there. I mean, we were both playing drunks.
The child often sees only what he already knows. He projects the whole of his verbal thought into things. He sees mountains as built by men, rivers as dug out with spades, the sun and moon as following us on our walks.
A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study: 'Duh.'
The defects of great men are the consolation of the dunces.
An exact poetic duplication of a man is for the poet a negation of the earth, an impossibility of being, even though his greatest desire is to speak to many men, to unite with them by means of harmonious verses about the truths of the mind or of things.
Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
The human race will then become one family, and the world will be the dwelling of Rational Men.
Men are never really willing to die except for the sake of freedom: therefore they do not believe in dying completely.
I've thought long and hard about this, and I think a lot of the dysfunction around dating has to do with men having the control.
Sensitive, responsive, eagerly welcomed everywhere, the drama, holding the mirror up to nature, by laughter and by tears reveals to mankind the world of men.
Great men are like eagles, and build their nest on some lofty solitude.
Very few of the men whose names have become great in the early pioneering of jazz and of swing were trained in music at all. They were born musicians: they felt their music and played by ear and memory. That was the way it was with the great Dixieland Five.
In the earliest years of the AIDS crisis, there were many gay men who were unable to come out about the fact that their lovers were ill, A, and then dead, B. They were unable to get access to the hospital to see their lover, unable to call their parents and say, 'I have just lost the love of my life.'
I can remember in the late 1980s and early 1990s how many men with AIDS I saw everywhere in Key West. There were hospices and medical supply stores geared to people with AIDS. It seemed that every sick man who could afford it had headed for the warmth and the tranquillity and the gay-friendliness of the island.
My first encounter with Buddhist dharma would be in my early 20s. Like most young men, I was not particularly happy.
