Beer Love Quotes & Sayings

But leave me to my beer! Gold is dross, love is loss, so if I gulp my sorrows down, or see them drown in foamy draughts of old nut-brown, then I do wear the crown, without the cross! — George Arnold

Look, Spanky," I said to Sharkface. "I'm a little busy to be tussling with every random weirdo who is insecure about his junk. Otherwise I would just love to smash you with a beer bottle, kick you in the balls, throw you out through the saloon doors, the whole bit. Why don't you have your people contact my people, and we can do this maybe next week?"
"Next week is your self-deprecation awareness seminar," Thomas said.
I snapped my fingers. "What about the week after?"
"Apartment hunting."
"Bother," I said. "Well, no one can say we didn't try. — Jim Butcher

The group's laughter echoed off the stained, plaster ceiling. I raised my beer, but before I clinked the bottles together, I challenged him. "You think you're a man I won't forget?"
"Ah'm nae any man ye've met before."
"Praise be," I smirked, "the others haven't been worth spit."
Then the whiskey came, and I was taken by the tawny light, forgetting to worry about my 'crazy'. Until Angus' efforts at gilding my heart, called my 'alter' to the fore. — Cheryl R Cowtan

Hey, I'm for love, not war. How about we have a beer? — Mel Gibson

What can I say? Love is blind," said Rory, sitting down next to Yamane. "Yamane here is the acknowledged world master of queer fu."
"Oh, no, you did not just say that." Yamane shot him a sour look and drank the last of Rory's beer. — Z.A. Maxfield

Two free days like an open mouth. They drank beer all day in the sun and passed out, and when she woke, she was burnt all over, and it was sunset, and Lotto had started building something enormous with sand, already four feet high and ten feet long and pointing toward the sea. Woozy, standing, she asked what it was.
He said, 'spiral jetty.'
She said, 'In sand?'
He smiled and said, 'That's its beauty.'
A moment in her bursting open, expanding. She looked at him. She hand't seen it before, but there was something special here. She wanted to tunnel inside him to understand what it was. There was a light under the shyness and youth, a sweetness, a sudden surge of the old hunger in her to take a part of him into her and make him briefly hers.
Instead, she bent and helped, they all did. And deep into the morning, when it was done, they sat in silence, huddled against the cold wind and watched the tide swallow it whole. Everything had changed somehow — Lauren Groff

You'll fare beer without love. We Medici always do. As soon as I spoke, I regretted it. I'd remembered Papa Clement's phrase exactly, used it to the same horrid purpose. I saw her flinch, take a small step back. I wanted to console her, to somehow ease the harsh reality of what I'd said. But I could not. I would not lie to her nor pretend the task I set before her was anything other than what it was: an act of submission, which could entail the loss of her youthful dreams. — C.W. Gortner

Those who romanticize war often like to think of it, at least in areas of mortal peril, as nothing but "guts and glory." Those who are inclined to pacifism, by contrast, often think of it as an unbroken sequence of horrors. Actually, however, people in wartime still fall in love, do the laundry, worry about pimples, drink beer, and do most of the same things that they do in times of peace. The patterns of daily life may be mundane, but they are remarkably tenacious.
But, while people in wartime still go about their daily routines, the prospect of imminent death can give even quotidian chores a heightened intensity. When the first bombs were dropped on London in autumn of 1940, the population bore adversity better than almost anybody had expected. The danger was mixed with excitement, and the terror had a sort of apocalyptic magnificence. — Boria Sax

It had been a wake-up call and now all she wanted was to keep her dad in sight and make sure he didn't eat too many Mars Bars or drink too much beer. — Vicky Pattison

I've only been in love with a beer bottle and a mirror. — Sid Vicious

When I get honest," writes Brennan Manning, "I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer."31 — Rachel Held Evans

At this point I came across one of the vending machines that only Japan has. I have to admit that I love the whimsical items sold in such appliances, like all sorts of junk food, beer cans, whisky bottles and even underwear. This particular machine sold both whisky and underwear, which truly is a bizarre combination, or maybe not, considering all the underwear were female panties. It was therefore my theory that older men would come by and buy the whisky, and then when they were drunk and young women passed by, the men would then offer them panties as gifts for sexual favours. Ya, it all made perfect sense to me. — Andrew James Pritchard

Sophia could just as well have gutted me. In Allah's name, I drank beer for you. I dismantled my entire value system of holding Allah's word above all for you. I reinterpreted my Islamic teachings to justify being with you. — Sam Wazan

I looked at Ethan and smiled a little.
"I love you," he mouthed.
"I love you, too," I mouthed back.
"And I'm nauseous," Catcher grumbled. "Let's get on with this. I am seriously in need of a beer and a Lifetime movie. — Chloe Neill

I'm not letting you go after this." He raised his head. "Marry me, Phoebe, please. Damn the courtship. Damn your brother. Damn the waiting. I can't ... I can't breathe when you're not with me. I love you with all my cynical heart. Be my wife and teach me to laugh and let me buy you beer and ride with me on the beaches of Cornwall. Be my love and my wife forevermore." (Captain James Trevellion) — Elizabeth Hoyt

Rugby is great. The players don't wear helmets or padding; they just beat the living daylights out of each other and then go for a beer. I love that. — Joe Theismann

I'm celebrating my love for you with a pint of beer and a new tattoo — Billy Bragg

You have heard that evil is a perversion of the good. The greatest goods can be perverted into the greatest evils. The poor man has not the opportunities for covetousness and self-indulgence which the rich man enjoys. The unlettered man has not the opportunities for intellectual pride and arrogance which the scholar may succumb to. An irreligious man may prostitute the flesh; but it takes a 'religious' man to prostitute the things of the Spirit and the Church of God. Every gift, every insight, ever vision, every talent brings its demand for self-forgetfulness in sanctified service: each brings its opportunities for richer worship or for more damnable self-love. The slum labourer may pervert beer and steak to the sole end of abusing an indulged body. It takes a bishop to pervert episcopacy to the service of self-indulgence; it takes a monk to pervert the religious life to the service of pride. — Harry Blamires

My love of horses began in College Park, with me and 10 friends on two couches and a keg of beer in the back of a truck, heading to Pimlico at 6 A.M. to mark our place in the middle of the Preakness infield, where we never saw a horse run. — Kevin Plank

Love isn't roses. It's those little square caramels and a root beer from the gas station because he knows that's your favorite snack. It's watching a musical with you without groaning. It's handing you your glasses at night because he knows you're too blind to find your way to the bathroom without them. Love is awkward. — R.K. Ryals

There are those who love to get dirty and fix things. They drink coffee at dawn, beer after work. And those who stay clean, just appreciate things. At breakfast they have milk and juice at night. There are those who do both, they drink tea. — Gary Snyder

Then he explains Chinese food in Manhattan to me: 'See the way it works is, there's one central location out on Long Island where all this stuff is made. Then it's piped into the city through a series of underground pipes that run parallel to the train and subway tracks. The restaurants then just pull a lever. One lever for General Tso's chicken, another for beef with broccoli sauce. It's like beer; it's on tap.' It's amazing how convincing he is when he says this. There's no pause in his description, nowhere for him to stop and think, to make this up as he goes along. It's as though he's simply repeating something he read in the Times yesterday. This makes me love him more than I did just five minutes ago. — Augusten Burroughs

Mr. Italia sat belching under a pair of oval-framed photographs of parents hairier, if possible, than himself. His wife was dead, but there was a picture of her, too, in her casket, gazing out at us with an eerie simulacrum of motherly love. Dark-complected Mr. Italia was indeed, with handle-bar mustaches of a size that might have made him topple forward out of his chair were it not for the posture seemingly aimed at correcting the leverage in his favor. He drank beer after thrusting into my hand a bottle of soda pop of marked but unidentifiable flavor, pale yellow in color, and lukewarm. — Peter De Vries

Waving from side to side in the breeze, her long golden hair
shimmered as she handed Thomas a bottle of beer.
"When are you coming home to me?" She said eloquently. — Thomas Ferreolus

There's something sexy about a gut. Not a 400-pound beer gut, but a little paunch. I love that. — Sandra Bullock

I ordered a cheeseburger and a beer from a waitress who looked as though she wanted to be in one of those want-to-get-away? commercials. She called me hon. I love when a waitress calls me hon. — Harlan Coben

Getting up, Luc finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the small outdoor table. The sooner he apologised for his outburst, the better. Walking into the house, he heard a thud. Panic filled him as he ran towards the back of the house.
He rounded the corner and almost ran over Justin. His partner had evidently been trying to get to his wheelchair. "Baby? What're you doing?" Luc asked. Kneeling on the floor, he pulled Justin into his arms.
"Coming after you," Justin said. "I'm ... sorry."
Luc held Justin tighter as his lover began to shake. He rocked the larger body back and forth like a child. "What're we gonna do with each other? I was just coming in to say the same thing to you. — Carol Lynne

The allure of unthinking animal bliss is powerful; it always calls to us, in the same way as the edge of a cliff or the waves of the ocean: Jump. It is a necessary part of our natures, full of delight and danger in equal measure. Yet to the mind trained in language, taught to spy subtleties and take joy in them, such crude, baser matters can pale after a while. But there lies grave peril also: The propensity to empathize with pain expressed in words encourages a poet to avoid the real thing, and a too-passionate love of books can mew one in a cloister, putting up walls where there should be free range. I decided long ago - to keep myself sane amongst the illiterate and unthinking - that there would be poetry in my life. But there would also be fucking. I would have them both, but follow the sage advice of modern beer commercials and enjoy responsibly. — Kevin Hearne

You love beer so much. I'll bet some day you'll go in and order a beer milk shake. — John Steinbeck

I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Are we on a date?"
I nearly choked on the sip of beer I'd just taken.
"For the love of God, woman, don't have a fit. I just wonder if you'd like to reestablish ground rules. Should we review our previous set?"
I nodded, pressing a napkin to my lips and mumbling, "Sure. — Christina Lauren

But the truth was that I didn't want to stay in Riley. The pulls of familial love and obligation could not, for the moment, compete with the promise of early-relationship sex. Starlight and beer and our twisting, naked bodies
that was what I wanted, not a seat at a dining room table with two old women eating breaded veal cutlets and Vienna torte. — Curtis Sittenfeld

Writing is solitary, so I love going out once in a while and meeting my readers. I'll often hang with them after a signing for some beers. They're invariably bright! — F. Paul Wilson

I no longer needed a reason for my existence, just a reason to live. And imagination, free will, love, humor, fun, music, sports, beer, and pizza are all good enough reasons for living. But living an honest life - for that you need the truth. — Ricky Gervais

I wasn't interested in drinking beer or vodka or smoking cigarettes or doing all the other things Greta thinks I can't even imagine. I don't want to imagine those things. Anyone can imagine things like that. I want to imagine wrinkled time, and forests thick with wolves, and bleak midnight moors. I dream about people who don't need to have sex to know they love each other. I dream about people who would only ever kiss you on the cheek. — Carol Rifka Brunt

Beginning with Bilbo's unexpected party in chapter 1 with its tea, seed-cakes, buttered scones, apple-tarts, mince-pies, cheese, eggs, cold chicken, pickles, beer, coffee, and smoke rings, we find that a reverence, celebration, and love of the everyday is an essential part of Tolkien's moral vision — Devin Brown

O.K."
"Gee I'm glad."
"Me too. I'm so sick of hot dogs and beer and apple pie with cheese on the side I could heave it all in the river."
"You'll love it, Frank. We'll get a place up in the mountains, where it's cool, and then, after I get my act ready, we can go all over the world with it. Go as we please, do as we please, and have plenty of money to spend. Have you got a little bit of gypsy in you?"
"Gypsy? I had rings in my ears when I was born. — James M. Cain

I think I get used to, even addicted to, the feelings associated with the end of a long training run. I love feeling empty, clean, worn out, starving, and sweat-purged. I love the good ache of muscles that have done me proud. I love the way a cold beer tastes later that afternoon. I love the way my body feels light and sinewy. — Kristin Armstrong

Years ago, Re had raged against humans for violating Ma'at, so he had sent Hathor to destroy mankind. She transformed into the lion goddess Sekhmet and Egypt's fields ran red with the blood of her rampage. Seeing this, Re realized his mistake and ordered Sekhmet to stop, but she was too gone with bloodlust to listen. Knowing he had to halt her some other way, Re stained seven thousand jugs of beer with pomegranate juice and poured the red liquid into her path. Believing the beer to be blood, Sekhmet gorged herself and passed out in a drunken stupor. When she awoke, her bloodlust had passed and she returned to being Hathor. Thus the goddesses of love and violence shared a common history. — Stephanie Thornton

Our purpose is to consciously, deliberately evolve toward a wiser, more liberated and luminous state of being; to return to Eden, make friends with the snake, and set up our computers among the wild apple trees. Deep down, all of us are probably aware that some kind of mystical evolution - a melding into the godhead, into love - is our true task. Yet we suppress the notion with considerable force because to admit it is to acknowledge that most of our political gyrations, religious dogmas, social ambitions and financial ploys are not merely counterproductive but trivial. Our mission is to jettison those pointless preoccupations and take on once again the primordial cargo of inexhaustible ecstasy. Or, barring that, to turn out a good thin-crust pizza and a strong glass of beer. — Tom Robbins

We heard that girls who had left to get married were being deported with their husbands. A girl who had a love affair with a French prisoner was sent to a concentration camp, and the Frenchman was executed. — Edith Hahn Beer

Blaisedell, the poet, had said to him, 'You love beer so much. I'll bet some day you'll go in and order a beer milk shake.' It was a simple piece of foolery but it had bothered Doc ever since. He wondered what a beer milk shake would taste like. The idea gagged him but he couldn't let it alone. It cropped up every time he had a glass of beer. Would it curdle the milk? Would you add sugar? It was like a shrimp ice cream. Once the thing got into your head you couldn't forget it ... If a man ordered a beer milk shake, he thought, he'd better do it in a town where he wasn't known. But then, a man with a beard, ordering a beer milk shake in a town where he wasn't known
they might call the police. — John Steinbeck

He shook his head and thought about it for a second. "Maybe I'm not straight? Can I still be straight when I'm sitting here looking into your eyes?" he asked. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought he was.
"Yes. Absolutely." Cormag nodded and watched him closely.
"Even when I think they're so pretty? They are, you know. So many different shades of brown ... and a little green. Just a touch; not a lot. So pretty." He sighed happily, watching those dark eyes staring back at him in surprise. He lay his head on his arms, smiling at the way Cormag flushed in embarrassment and turned his full attention onto his bottle of beer.
"Wow, you are super drunk. — Elaine White

His name is Nick. I love it. It makes him seem nice, and regular, which he is. When he tells me his name, I say, "Now, that's a real name." He brightens and reels off some line: "Nick's the kind of guy you can drink a beer with, the kind of guy who doesn't mind if you puke in his car. Nick!" He — Gillian Flynn

I'm just a simple guy. I love beer, sex, and hockey. I hate liars, Sting, and art that doesn't have people in it. - Luke Almeida — Kate Meader

Drop Pants, Not Bombs. Break Dance, Not Hearts. Draft Beer, Not People. Make LOVE, Not WAR. — Ashley Purdy

Brain: You don't want this.
Hormones: Dude, this is EXACTLY what I want.
B: No, not like this - she's wasted.
H: What's your point?
B: She won't remember this, and if she does, she'll be angry.
H: Do you see where her hand is? God, that feels good. Can't you feel that?
B: She's drunk. You can't do this. It's wrong
H: I want to do this.
B: Really? You want to go to school and say you scored with Bethany Milbury when she was so drunk she barely knew her name?
H:
H:
H: You're an asshole. I hate you.
B: She needs to eat something and drink some water. Don't let her drink anymore beer.
H:
H: Yeah, I know
B: She'll love you for taking care of her. She'll love that you respected her.
H: Five more minutes? Just five?
B: Now.
H: I can't believe you're making me do this. — Laurie Halse Anderson

I wrote at the start that this was a record of hate, and walking there beside Henry towards the evening glass of beer, I found the one prayer that seemed to serve the winter mood: O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever. — Graham Greene

Daniel first kisses his brother in a town where no-one knows them, a no-account place that's barely even a town, just some buildings clustered around the highway: a smoky bar, an empty motel, a convenience store that only sells candy and condoms and beer. The nearest gas station is twenty miles away. The nearest bus station is fifty. — Kirsty Logan

Christians who like to write might do as a description of the genus. But the actual species shared more precise characteristics, including intellectual vivacity, love of death, conservative politics, memories of war, and a passion for beef, beer, and verbal battle. — Philip Zaleski

From Wishful Thinking...Sydney's first siting of her soon to be love interest, "as I gazed across the fire the hairs on the back of my neck began to tickle and stand on end. I watched as he gripped his beer bottle with a strong, sun tanned hand. My eyes followed up his arm and even through the flames I could see strong muscles rippling beneath the thin t-shirt he was wearing. As my eyes continued up, I saw a strong jaw, big smile, deep brown eyes, and short dark brown hair, which looked freshly cut. Not too short though, just enough to put your hands through and tug a little. — S.P. Wilcox

I love you, Tess McGee. I don't do big funny or heartfelt speeches in front of people at birthday parties, but I'm excellent in private alcoves in beer gardens." He paused. "Okay, that sounded really bad, what I mean is ... "
I kissed him into silence. I pressed my forehead against his with a sigh. "I love you, too, Toby. In fact, that's what I was going to tell you before we walked into the beer garden. Right before the really bad singing started."
Toby chuckled. He let out a sigh of relief. "Ready to reminisce?"
I whispered my final word before he closed the distance.
"Always. — C.J. Duggan

Women want a family life that glitters and is stable. They don't want some lump spouse watching ice hockey in the late hours of his eighteenth beer. They want a family that is so much fun and is so smart that they look forward to Thanksgiving rather than regarding it with a shudder. That's the glitter part. The stable part is, obviously, they don't want to be one bead on a long necklace of wives. They want, just like men, fun, love, fame, money and power. And equal pay for equal work. — Carolyn See

I wanted to badly to be vulnerable over a burger, beer, and bags of free books we find on some stranger's porch. You wanted badly to be touched some thousand miles away and never found the time to write me back. — Darnell Lamont Walker

I love football and beer and have a normal girlfriend. — Josh Duhamel

This guy from L.A. sits down next to me, and he says "you like baseball?" I said, "Oh, man, I love baseball." So he goes "Did you know that if Jesus had played ball, he'd have been the greatest ball player ever?" Like I'm gonna argue with that logic. So I sat there for a second, and then I said "did you know that if Babe Ruth had been the Messiah, the Catholics would have beer and hot dogs at Communion?" He left. — Bill Engvall

His voice gentled and his touch became more like a caress. "I love you," he whispered.
"Romeo ... "
"I love your glasses, your clumsiness, your wild hair, even the way you snort when you laugh." He smiled. "I love you in spite of yourself, Rim. Can't you love me in spite of myself?"
I couldn't help it, I smiled.
"You do come with a lot of baggage." I sighed. "You're impossibly good-looking, terrible at math, and you like to drink that swill you call beer." I mock shuddered.
He smiled, but I saw the relief in his eyes.
"Me being good-looking is a bad thing?" he teased.
"You have a lot of options," I said seriously. "I'm not the best one."
"No." He agreed. "You're not."
Geez, he could have said it a little nicer.
"You're the only one."
Oh, well, that was much better.
- Romeo & Rimmel — Cambria Hebert

I love to have a beer with Duncan "Cause Duncan"s me mate — Slim Dusty

When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer. — Brennan Manning

For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can't readily accept the God formula, the big answers don't remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us. — Charles Bukowski

That party last night was awfully crazy I wish we taped it I danced my ass off and had this one girl completely naked Drink my beer and smoke my weed But my good friends is all I need Pass out at three, wake up at 10 Go out to eat, then do it again. Man I love college — Asher Roth

I shook my head. "You know I ain't never going to be good enough for her. She can't fall in love with me, you know as well as I do that nothing good is going to come of her staying with me."
"Then why do you stay with her? Why, if you seem to think that this is a bad idea, do you stay with her?"
I raked my fingers through my hair. "I don't know! Maybe I'm stupid? A glutton for punishment."
Jackson pointed his beer at me. "Or maybe you love her too and that scares the shit out of you. — Magan Vernon

I hate the concept of likeability - it gave us two terms of George Bush, whom a plurality of voters wanted to have a beer with, and Facebook. You'd unfriend a lot of people if you knew them as intimately and unsparingly as a good novel would. But not the ones you actually love. — Jonathan Franzen

Jennifer Dixon, I'm a fuck-up. I swear too much, and I like beer. Sometimes I get moody, and I can be a plain pain in the ass."
If this was a wedding proposal he needed a lot of work.
"I'm all of those things, but I'm the man who is in love with you. If you asked me to follow you wherever you may go then I'd follow, no questions asked." He licked his lips. "The biggest mistake of my life was walking out of that door angry at you. I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself. All my life I've had everything easy. I never expected to be completely taken over by you."
She watched as he rummaged through his pockets. He pulled out a ring, took a deep breath, and presented it to her.
"Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? — Sam Crescent

I am big in Japan ... heightwise! But, yeah, I started modeling there in my teens and into my 20s. I did Calvin Klein, Uniqlo, and lots of magazine covers. It's such a beautiful country, and they have beer vending machines right on the street. Love that! — Julia Voth

I gave examples from my clinical practice of how love was not wholly a thought or feeling. I told of how that very evening there would be some man sitting at a bar in the local village, crying into his beer and sputtering to the bartender how much he loved his wife and children while at the same time he was wasting his family's money and depriving them of his attention. We recounted how this man was thinking love and feeling love
were they not real tears in his eyes?
but he was not in truth behaving with love. — M. Scott Peck

We have to recognise, that the gin-palace, like many other evils, although as poisonous, is still a natural outgrowth of our social conditions. The tap-room in many cases is the poor man's only parlour. Many a man takes to beer, not from the love of beer, but from a natural craving for the light, warmth, company, and comfort which is thrown in along with the beer, and which he cannot get excepting by buying beer. Reformers will never get rid of the drink shop until they can outbid it in the subsidiary attractions which it offers to its customers. — William Booth

Beer bottles, whiskey bottles, brown glass, green. They fell to the lawn and I'd feel serene. Adam was king to my stilted queen. — Kate Bernheimer

I drink because I don't stand a chance and I know it. I couldn't drive a truck and I couldn't get on the cops with my build. I got to sling beer and sing when I just want to sing. I drink because I got responsibilities that I can't handle ... I am not a happy man. I got a wife and children and I don't happen to be a hard-working man. I never wanted a family ... Yes, your mother works hard. I love my wife and I love my children. But shouldn't a man have a better life? Maybe someday it will be that the Unions will arrange for a man to work and to have time for himself too. But that won't be in my time. Now, it's work hard all the time or be a bum ... no in-between. When I die, nobody will remember me for long. No one will say, "He was a man who loved his family and believed in the Union." All they will say is," Too bad. But he was nothing but a drunk no matter which way you look at it." Yes they'll say that. — Betty Smith

Tyler took the beer out of my hand. "You were black-out drunk last night, and you're drinking again. I thought you were going to quit? Do I need to quit with you?"
"I've just lost my sister. Not the best time to stop drinking."
"There will never be a good time if you have to drink every time you're upset. Shit happens. You have to learn to deal with it without alcohol. I love you no matter what, but you need to wake up, Ellie. — Jamie McGuire

Unlike an envied and admirable few, I separate my friends and almost never dare mingle one group with another. When I do, it is usually a social disaster, like mixing drinks. I love good beer and I love good wine, but you cannot drink both on the same evening without suffering. I love the friends with whom I play or once daily played snooker and tooted quantities of high-grade pulverized Andean flake; I love the friends with whom I dine at preposterously expensive restaurants; I love the friends with whom I'm film-making or mincing on the stage. I love and value them all equally and don't think of them as stratified or in tiers, one group in some way higher or more important than the rest, but the thought of introducing them to each other makes me shiver and shudder with cringing embarrassment. — Stephen Fry

The hardest part about writing is falling in love with your characters. I can't even tell you how many times I've wanted to take one of them out for a beer, but I can't, because I made them up in my head. It's heart breaking, but it also means you created someone real, and there's no equivalent for that feeling. — Quinn Anderson

Well, now that I'm thoroughly and diligently queer, I expected more manly love-talk, you know? Not like Pretty Baby and feeding you grapes and stuff," he snorted.
"Uh, you mean like, hey you bastard I don't have a beer and nobody's sucking my dick, what's wrong with this picture? — Z.A. Maxfield

I don't let anyone touch me," I finally said.
Why not?"
Why not? Because I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, their smell of beer or fifteen-year-old whiskey. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left on Christmas Eve. Men who slammed the security gates, who made you love them then changed their minds. Forests of boys, their ragged shrubs full of eyes following you, grabbing your breasts, waving their money, eyes already knocking you down, taking what they felt was theirs. ( ... ) It was a play and I knew how it ended, I didn't want to audition for any of the roles. It was no game, no casual thrill. It was three-bullet Russian roulette. — Janet Fitch

Come on. Let's go and sit down. I need to have a beer and a nervous
breakdown."
"Talk first, then breakdown. I want answers, not drool."
"You used to love my drool."
"Ha. You funny. — Marjorie M. Liu

I don't have diamonds or solitaires now, but with this water of the pool and this bottle of beer, I vow before you to love you forever. — Parul Wadhwa

One of the coolest things to me about going to a show is you look over, and the guy next to you is sitting there drinking a beer and he's wearing a Donkeys t-shirt. And you're like, "Dude, I love The Donkeys." — Craig Finn

Whenever he was around, she'd get this look on her face, this kind of radiance. She was a beer poured too fast, her golden liquid spilling over the edge. — Elizabeth Brundage

I never was a crazy liquor drinker, and I don't like beer that much - though I keep the brews at home because my homies love beer. — Danny Brown

My Dream Date.
Putting Pink Floyd on loop in at least a 5-CD rotation or on spotify or something, getting real high on hash while naked, making love on and off for hours, lying on the bed eating cheesy crackers and sipping a quality beer like Tetley's, Guinness or Pilsner Urquell.
Repeat as needed. — Sienna McQuillen

All the black leather
she needs

is the E-Z boy recliner
where her love is parked

with one of his hands wrapped around a remote,
the other, a bottle of beer.

She's right. It's kinky.
The way he doesn't look away

from the TV,
as her head bobs

in his lap
like a fisherman's float

on a nature program,
hectic

with the pace
his breath sets.

His crotch swells
under her mouth's

prowess. He's such
a sweetheart

he waits
until the

commercials
to come. — Daphne Gottlieb

The administration says the American people want tax cuts. Well, duh. The American people also want drive-through nickel beer night. The American people want to lose weight by eating ice cream. The American people love the Home Shopping Network because it's commercial-free. — Will Durst

I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, their smell of beer or fifteen-year-old whiskey. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left on Christmas Eve. Men who slammed the security gates, who made you love them and then changed their minds.
— Janet Fitch

I'm messy and a slob and I like beer a little too much. I work long hours and I like to be outside more than inside. I'm restless and reckless, and yes, I admit, a pervert. Upon occasion. But I love you. I've never loved anyone like I love you, Sara. Never will. I want to be with you until I take my last breath, and even when I take my last breath, I want it to be next to you. Please. Redeem my selfish soul and make it better, make me better. Say you'll be my wife. — Lindy Zart

...but for the Girl Writing A Letter these things don't matter, she's got a beer in her free hand, she's on the road, she's real and she's in love. — William Carpenter

I like writing songs. I like the camarderie of the and. I like touring. I love playing bass. And then there's free beer. — Keanu Reeves

I'm a meat girl and I just love having a beer. — Jill Goodacre

Can you still want something you already have? Absolutely. Everyday. — Crystal Woods

Probably we'd have been better off born in nineteenth-century Russia. I'd have been Prince So-and-so and you Count Such-and-such. We'd go hunting together, fight, be rivals in love, have our metaphysical complaints, drink beer watching the sunset from the shores of the Black Sea. In our later years, the two of us would be implicated in the Something-or-other Rebellion and exiled to Siberia, where we'd die. Brilliant, don't you think? — Haruki Murakami

Ah, good ol' trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die. — Homer

You know I love pot, and I love beer, but I am totally sober, just because it completely stopped working for me. — Anthony Kiedis

Continuing up Rennes. Dodging little Saabs and Renaults. Loving walking here. Sun alternately streaming. Obliterating physiognomies. No longer nouns. But movement. Disappearing. Now heavily raining. Sitting out anyway. Over drain smelling of beer. Metro. Sewers. Fetid breath of Paris. Two cold coffees. Watching shadows lengthening. On la Gaite opposite. Where Colette once performing. Having walked in old boots across city. Drawing mole above lip. Rice-powdering delicious arms. Paris a drug. P saying on phone. Yes Paris a drug. A woman. And I waking this a.m. Thinking there must be some way. Of staying. Now my love's silhouette of rooftops eclipsing. Into night. Cold heinous breath. Blowing on privates. Through grille underneath. — Gail Scott

I love the Tea Party. They are the ultimate beer goggles. They make everything look better. — Bill Maher

Damn me not I make a better fool. And there is nothing vaster, more beautiful, remote, unthinking (eternal rose-red sunrise on the surf - great rectitude of rocks) than man, inhuman man,
At whom I look for a thousand light years from a seat near Scorpio, amazed and touched by his concern and pity for my plight, a simple star,
Then trading shapes again. My wife is gone, my girl is gone, my books are loaned, my clothes are worn, I gave away a car; and all that happened years ago. Mind & matter, love & space are frail as foam on beer. — Gary Snyder