Tobacco

"Tobacco, an outlandish weed, Doth in the land strange wonders breed; It taints the breath, the blood it dries, It burns the head, it blinds the eyes; It dries the lungs, scourgeth the lights, It 'numbs the soul, it dulls the sprites; It brings a man into a maze, And makes him sit for others' gaze; It mars a man, it mars a purse, A lean one fat, a fat one worse; A white man black, a black man white, A night a day, a day a night; It turns the brain like cat in pan, And makes a Jack a gentleman."

"With pipe and book at close of day, Oh, what is sweeter? mortal say."

"Tobacco is a traveler, Come from the Indies hither; It passed sea and land Ere it came to my hand, And 'scaped the wind and weather. Tobacco's a musician. And in a pipe delighteth; It descends in a close, Through the organ of the nose, With a relish that inviteth."

"Some sigh for this and that; My wishes don't go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar."

"Neither do thou lust after that tawney weed tobacco."

"Ods me I marle what pleasure or felicity they have in taking their roguish tobacco. It is good for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers."

"For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick O'Teen. And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear, But I have been priest of Partagas a matter of seven year. And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cherry light Of stumps that I burned to friendship, and pleasure and work and fight."

"Tobac! dont mon âme est ravie, Lorsque je te vois te perdre en l'air, Aussi promptement q'un éclair, Je vois l'image de ma vie."

"I would I were a cigarette Between my Lady's lithe sad lips, Where Death like Love, divinely set. With exquisite sighs and sips, Feeds and is fed. * * * * For life is Love and Love is death, It was my hap, a well-a-day! To burn my little hour away."

"Old man, God bless you, does your pipe taste sweetly? A beauty, by my soul! A ruddy flower-pot, rimmed with gold so neatly, What ask you for the bowl? O sir, that bowl for worlds I would not part with; A brave man gave it me, Who won it—now what think you—of a bashaw? At Belgrade's victory."

"Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut down at eve; It shows our decay, we are but clay. Think on this when you smoak Tobacco."

"Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doctors' spite; Thy clouds all other clouds dispel And lap me in delight."

"It is not for nothing that this "ignoble tabagie," as Michelet calls it, spreads over all the world. Michelet rails against it because it renders you happily apart from thought or work;… Whatever keeps a man in the front garden, whatever checks wandering fancy and all inordinate ambition, whatever makes for lounging and contentment, makes just so surely for domestic happiness."

"Am I not—a smoker and a brother?"

"Look at me—follow me—smell me! The "stunning" cigar I am smoking is one of a sample intended for the Captain General of Cuba, and the King of Spain, and positively cost a shilling! Oh! * * * I have some dearer at home. Yes, the expense is frightful, but——it! who can smoke the monstrous rubbish of the shops?"

"To smoke a cigar through a mouthpiece is equivalent to kissing a lady through a respirator."

"The cigarettes Mr. Slump smoked were prepared by doctors, so the advertisements declared, with the sole purpose of protecting his respiratory system. Yet Mr. Slump suffered and the young secretary suffered with him, hideously. For the first hours of every day he was possessed by a cough which arose from tartarean depths and was relieved only by whisky."

"Dick Stoype Was a dear friend and lover of the pipe. He used to say one pipe of Wishart's best Gave life a zest. To him 'twas meat and drink and physic, To see the friendly vapor Curl round his midnight taper, And the black fume Clothe all the room, In clouds as dark as sciences metaphysic."

"A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can you want?"

"Lastly, the ashes left behind, May daily show to move the mind, That to ashes and dust return we must: Then think, and drink tobacco."

"Ashore it's wine, women and song; aboard it's rum, bum and bacca."

"Capitalism"

"Imperialism"

"Alcoholic beverages"

"Lung cancer"

"Tobacco industry"