Champagne

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

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

"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!"

"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 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."

"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.”"

"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 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."

"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."

"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?..""

""...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."

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

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

"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."

"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."

"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."

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