"Your best Sacke[s] are of Seres in Spaine, your smaller of Galicia and Portugall: your strong Sackes are of the Islands of the Canaries, and of Malligo."

"Sherry is a name much misused, and even in the strictest sense applicable to a great diversity of wine, from Manzanilla, as pale and dry as old paper, to the heavy, sweet, brown wine sold under a variety of names often as ‘East India’ or Solera. ... I do not, myself, find that the richer and sweeter sherries serve any purpose that is not more perfectly fulfilled by port, but this is purely an individual judgement. Nothing could be more delicious than a glass of pale, very dry Fino, chilled, at noon, in the height of summer. It makes an admirable apéritif before and at the beginning of a dinner. Like all good wines, it is best enjoyed in tranquillity; the ‘sherry party’ of recent growth is an abomination to me. For as long, however, as people continue to entertain between six and eight in the evening they will find Amontillados and Amorosos a useful knock-about standby, less deleterious and less expensive than cocktails."

"Any time you are not drinking Port is a waste of time."

"Port is the wine proper to the heavy drinker, and it may be admitted that whereas champagne, claret, burgundy, and hock are all entirely beneficial and indeed, in a well-ordered constitution, essential to the digestion of food, port, and the very finest port at that, can be slightly deleterious. Its charm insidiously invites excess, and excess of port, though not in itself harmful, sometimes discloses latent infirmities. The heavy port drinker must be prepared to make some sacrifice of personal beauty and agility. Its martyrs are usually well content with the bargain, and in consolation it may be remarked that a red nose never lost a friend worth holding, and that by universal testimony the sharpest attacks of gout — are preceded by a period of peculiar mental lucidity. ... No one, I think, ever contracted gout by port-drinking. What can be said is that those who are naturally gouty may find their weakness aggravated by port. Port is not for the very young, the vain, and the active. It is the comfort of age, the companion of the scholar and philosopher. Those qualities of British university scholarship — alternations of mellow appreciation and acid criticism — may be plausibly derived from the habits of our Senior Common-rooms. ... Port, is of course, designed to be drunk after dinner. It should be drunk at the table; only in the masculine calm which follows the retirement of the women, when the decanter travels from hand to hand round the bare mahogany, can it be enjoyed at its best."

"Claret is the liquor for boys; port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy."

"O for a Bowle of fatt Canary, Rich Palermo, sparkling Sherry Some Nectar else, from Juno’s Daiery, O these draughts would make us merry."

"PUPPET JONAS: A Pint of Sack, score a Pint of Sack i' the Conney. COKES: Sack? you said but e'en now it should be Sherry. PUPPET JONAS: Why so it is; Sherry, Sherry, Sherry. COKES: Sherry, Sherry, Sherry. By my Troth he makes me merry."

"FALSTAFF: Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me, nor a man cannot make him laugh. But that’s no marvel: he drinks no wine. There’s never none of these demure boys come to any proof, for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then when they marry, they get wenches. They are generally fools and cowards, which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a twofold operation in it: it ascends me into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and dull and cruddy vapors which environ it, makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which, delivered o’er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is the warming of the blood, which before, cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts’ extremes. It illumineth the face, which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to their captain, the heart; who, great and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage. And this valour comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it awork; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till sack commences it, and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it, that Prince Harry is valiant, for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father he hath, like lean, sterile and bare land, manured, husbanded and tilled with excellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be to forswear thin potations, and to addict themselves to sack."

"We care not for mony, riches, or wealth, Old Sack is our mony, old Sack is our health, Then let's flock hither Like Birds of a feather, To drinke, to fling, To laugh and sing, Conferring our notes together, Conferring our notes together.Come let us laugh, let us drinke, let us sing, The winter with us is as good as the Spring, We care not a feather For wind, or for weather, But night and day We sport and play, Conferring our notes together, Conferring our notes together."

"The next that stood up with a Countenance merry, Was a pert sort of Wine which the Moderns call Sherry."

"The first duty of port is to be red."

"Now kepe yow fro the white and fro the rede, And namely fro the white wyn of Lepe That is to selle in Fysshstrete or in Chepe. This wyn of Spaigne crepeth subtilly In othere wynes, growynge faste by, Of which ther ryseth swich fumositee That whan a man hath dronken draughtes thre, And weneth that he be at hoom in Chepe, He is in Spaigne, right at the toune of Lepe."

"No more the milk of cows Shall pollute my private house Than the milk of the wild mares of the Barbarian; I will stick to port and sherry, For they are so very, very, So very, very, very, Vegetarian."

"A happy end thus made of all your sport, Lead her where every Lover shou’d resort, Where Madam Sack’s enthron’d, the tempting’st Lass That e’er was seated in a Venice Glass. Last, that this sense of Pleasure may remain, Cast away Thought and fall to Drink again. Drink off the Glasses, swallow every Bowl, And pity him that sighs away his Soul For that poor trifle Woman, who is mine With one small Gallon of Immortal Wine. To get a Mistress Drinking is the knack; Love’s grand existence is Almighty Sack."

"Champagne in a lily! Champagne in a lily! With health and with wisdom it sparkles and shines! A shot of Mignon with one of Escamillio Champagne in a lily — a sacred wine."

"The last words of Anton Chekhov before he died were what? You remember? He said, 'Ich sterbe,' that is, 'I'm dying .' And later he added, 'Pour me some champagne.' And only then did he die. ...And Friedrich Schiller not only couldn't die, he couldn't live, without champagne. Do you know how he wrote? He'd put his feet in an icy bath, pour out the champagne, and write. He'd go through one glassful — and a whole act of a of a tragedy would be ready. He'd go through five glasses and a whole tragedy in five acts would be ready."

"Lily on liquid roses floating— So floats yon foam o’er pink champagne— Fain would I join such pleasant boating, And prove that ruby main, And float away on wine!Those seas are dangerous, greybeards swear— Whose sea-beach is the goblet’s brim; And true it is—they drown old Care, But what care we for him, So we but float on wine! And true it is—they cross in pain, Who sober cross the Stygian ferry; But only make our —champagne, And we shall cross right merry, Floating away on wine!Old ’s self shall make him mellow, Then gaily row his boat from shore; While we, and every jovial fellow, Hear—unconcerned—the oar, That dips itself in wine!"

"Praise who will the duller liquor Juice of Portugal or Spain; Fill for me with lighter—quicker— Fill for me with Rose Champagne. See the glass its foam upgiving, Creaming—beading—round the brim, Such, were old Anacreon living, Such should be the wine for him! Elixir blest! Bacchus and Flora, 'Twas He proposed—She smiled compliance— Thee—a spell for mortal sorrow, Thee devised in gay alliance. Full of the plan, they leapt delighted From leafy couch, where each reposes, And while they plied their task united, (One gave the grapes, and one the roses,) Young Love stood near, with curious eye, And heedful watched the chemic union, And smiled to think how, by and bye, The play of looks, the soul's communion, And the tied tongue's first liberty Should thrive beneath that magic essence. And what, thou glorious alchemy! What though thy primal effervescence, Like Love's, too bright—too dear to stay— Like Love's—die almost in the tasting— Yet each I snatch, as best I may; Ah! why are both so little lasting."

"Pour my goblet with champagne again, I'm a Slav by heart, by stomach — Gallic man!"

"When a man says no to champagne, he says no to life."

"Praise who will the duller liquor Juice of Portugal or Spain; Fill for me with lighter—quicker— Fill for me with Rose Champagne. See the glass its foam upgiving, Creaming—beading—round the brim, Such, were old Anacreon living, Such should be the wine for him! Elixir blest! Bacchus and Flora, 'Twas He proposed—She smiled compliance— Thee—a spell for mortal sorrow, Thee devised in gay alliance. Full of the plan, they leapt delighted From leafy couch, where each reposes, And while they plied their task united, (One gave the grapes, and one the roses,) Young Love stood near, with curious eye, And heedful watched the chemic union, And smiled to think how, by and bye, The play of looks, the soul's communion, And the tied tongue's first liberty Should thrive beneath that magic essence. And what, thou glorious alchemy! What though thy primal effervescence, Like Love's, too bright—too dear to stay— Like Love's—die almost in the tasting— Yet each I snatch, as best I may; Ah! why are both so little lasting."

"Lily on liquid roses floating— So floats yon foam o’er pink champagne— Fain would I join such pleasant boating, And prove that ruby main, And float away on wine!Those seas are dangerous, greybeards swear— Whose sea-beach is the goblet’s brim; And true it is—they drown old Care, But what care we for him, So we but float on wine! And true it is—they cross in pain, Who sober cross the Stygian ferry; But only make our —champagne, And we shall cross right merry, Floating away on wine!Old ’s self shall make him mellow, Then gaily row his boat from shore; While we, and every jovial fellow, Hear—unconcerned—the oar, That dips itself in wine!"

"The clanking of spurs was heard in the entryway, and quite unexpectedly the loud lieutenant Prince Urusov Sr. entered the room and immediately plopped down on the sofa. “What? Sick, you say?! What nonsense! Your illness will not touch anyone and no one is interested. Her Majesty's Cuirassier men are always ready to drink again! Haven't you learned this yet? And then, my soul, you talk nonsense, your head cannot hurt: in the Assembly they only drink Mumm Sec Cordon Vert. Excellent brand! Yes, yes... and it never causes any cats. Drink only Mumm, only Sec, and only Cordon Vert all your life, and you'll always be fine. I beg you of one thing: never drink any Demi-sec! Believe me, my prince: firstly, any Demi-sec is emetic, and secondly, it's the same vulgarity as detachable cuffs or traveling in second class. So: Mumm Sec Cordon Vert, got it?..""

"In spite of the boredom which was consuming me, we were preparing to see the New Year in with exceptional festiveness, and were awaiting midnight with some impatience. The fact is, we had in reserve two bottles of champagne, the real thing, with the label of Veuve Clicquot; this treasure I had won the previous autumn in a bet with the station-master of D. when I was drinking with him at a christening. It sometimes happens during a lesson in mathematics, when the very air is still with boredom, a butterfly flutters into the class-room; the boys toss their heads and begin watching its flight with interest, as though they saw before them not a butterfly but something new and strange; in the same way ordinary champagne, chancing to come into our dreary station, roused us."

""...You're less of a judge of such matters, Mishka, than a calf is of swill. But I know what's what where liquor's concerned. The liquors and wines I've come to drink in my time! There's wine which foams out of the bottle like out of a mad dog almost before you've pulled the cork - God knows I'm not lying. In Poland, when we broke through the front and rode with Budionny to shake up the Poles, we took a certain estate by storm. <…> When our troop dashed into the estate on horseback there were officers feasting with the masterr — they weren't expecting us. We sabred them all in the orchard and on the stairs, but we took one prisoner. <…> Well, we went into the downstairs rooms and there was a huge table with all kinds of eats on it! Lovely sight it was… <…> Ay, we stuffed ourselves and drank that foaming wine till it we were stuffed up to our eyes. <…> We tugged at a cork and it flew out as though shot from a gun, and the froth boiled up in a great cloud. That wine made me fall off my horse three times that night. The moment I climbed into my saddle I was sent flying again as though blown clean off by the wind. Now if only I could always drink wine like that, a glass or two on an empty stomach, I'd live to be a hundred. But as things are, is anyone likely to live out his time? Do you call this drink, for instance? It's an infection, not a drink! It's enough to make you turn up your toes before your time!" With a nod Prokhor indicated the ewer of vodka and poured himself out another glass full to the brim."

"...Champagne was sold at a high price in Moscow at that time. After the return of the inhabitants after the French occupation, the price for a bottle of champagne reached 25 rubles… But this price did not frighten anyone: inexorable Muscovites washed down their grief that the French were in Moscow, and their joy that they were driven out of Moscow, and performed all these funeral feasts for the French with their own French wine."

"Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right."

"Moet, that wine most blest and heady, Or Veuve Cliquot, the finest class, Is brought in bottle chilled and ready And set beside the poet's glass. Like Hippocrene it sparkles brightly, It fizzes, foams, and bubbles lightly (A simile in many ways); It charmed me too, in other days: For its sake once, I squandered gladly My last poor pence… remember, friend? Its magic stream brought forth no end Of acting foolish, raving madly, And, oh, how many jests and rhymes, And arguments, and happy times!"

"Frederick the Great's father was a reveler, he loved wine, but did not like learning. One day he decided to let the Berlin Society of Sciences, founded by Leibniz, solve a problem: what causes the foam of champagne wine, which he really liked. The Academy asked for 60 bottles for a thorough study of the problem and the necessary tests. “Let they go to hell,” said the king, “it’s better for me to never know what’s matter, I can to drink champagne without them.”"

"If you drink champagne in the morning, you must be an aristocrat... or a degenerate!"

"I'm fond of fire, and crickets, and all that, A lobster salad, and champagne, and chat."

"We had champagne … what was the governor's compared with it? — no better than cider. Just fancy, not Cliquot but a special Cliquot-Matradura which means double Cliquot."

"At the beginning of the century, two brothers named S. were known in Moscow. They were even famous in their own way and in some circles. Both were prominent and handsome men. They expressed a certain debauchery, a certain bravado, quite common during the reign of Catherine, curbed and suppressed under Emperor Paul and again awakened, for a while, with the accession of Alexander. <…> In 1806, they were militiamen in a remote provincial town. At that very time, before December 12, the birthday of Emperor Alexander, the governor appeals to his highest authorities, asking permission to drink Malaga at the upcoming official dinner for the health of the sovereign emperor, and not Champagne, because all the Champagne available in the provincial town and in the districts had been drunk by the brothers S."

"CHAMPAGNE. The sign of a grand dinner. Pretend to despise it, saying: 'It isn't really a wine.' Arouses the enthusiasm of the lower orders. Russia drinks more of it than France. The medium through which French ideas have been spread throughout Europe. During the Regency people did nothing but drink champagne. But one doesn't drink champagne: one 'sips' it."

"Vozhevatov: Shall we have a cold drink, Mokiy Parmyonych?"

"In those days we drank nothing but champagne — if we had no champagne we drank nothing at all. We never drank vodka, as they do now."

"Only upstarts and parvenus shout to the whole tavern: “Champagne!” But every self-respecting person should use to say “wine.” And everyone around you should immediately understand that since you say wine, you mean champagne and not anything else. So in a restaurant, never shout: “Champagne!” Order to the waiter in a low voice, but impressively: “Be so kind as to bring me some wine.” He will understand. Rest assured. He will bring what you need."

"Quis post vina gravem militiam aut pauperiem crepat?"

"Vino diffugiunt mordaces curæ."

"Spes donare novas largus, amaraque Curarum eluere efficax."

"And wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile."

"Sparkling and bright, in liquid light, Does the wine our goblets gleam in; With hue as red as the rosy bed Which a bee would choose to dream in."

"Nunc vino pellite curas."

"Fœcundi calices quem non fecere disertum."

"The wine in the bottle does not quench thirst."

"Call things by their right names * * * Glass of brandy and water! That is the current, but not the appropriate name; ask for a glass of liquid fire and distilled damnation."

"Wine makes all sorts of creatures at table."

"Men to whom wine had brought death long before lay by springs of wine and drank still, too stupefied to know their lives were past."

"From wine what sudden friendship springs?"