Decanters Quotes & Sayings

What I invest in, while not risky for me, may be too risky for most people. — Robert Kiyosaki

The great novelist vibrated between two decanters with the regularity of a pendulum. — Louisa May Alcott

When all else fails, there's always delusion. — Conan O'Brien

As I followed the chief waiter with my eyes, I could not help thinking that the garden in which he had gradually blown to be the flower he was, was an arduous place to rise in. It had such a prescriptive, stiff-necked, long-established, solemn, elderly air. I glanced about the room, which had had its sanded floor sanded, no doubt, in exactly the same manner when the chief waiter was a boy - if he ever was a boy, which appeared improbable; and at the shining tables, where I saw myself reflected, in unruffled depths of old mahogany; and at the lamps, without a flaw in their trimming or cleaning; and at the comfortable green curtains, with their pure brass rods, snugly enclosing the boxes; and at the two large coal fires, brightly burning; and at the rows of decanters, burly as if with the consciousness of pipes of expensive old port wine below; and both England and the law appeared to me to be very difficult indeed to be taken by storm. — Charles Dickens

It's been predictable, in the sense of 'expect the unexpected'. — John McEnroe

Now defined as art, the totem has lost cult, taboo, and custom. — Mason Cooley

There was a rough stone age and a smooth stone age and a bronze age, and many years afterward a cut-glass age. In the cut-glass age, when young ladies had persuaded young
men with long, curly mustaches to marry them, they sat down several months afterward and wrote thank-you notes for all sorts of cut-glass presents - punch-bowls, finger-bowls, dinner-glasses, wine-glasses, ice-cream dishes, bonbon dishes, decanters, and vases - for, though cut glass was nothing new in the nineties, it was then especially busy reflecting the dazzling light of fashion from the Back Bay to the fastnesses of the Middle West."
--from "The Glass-Cut Bowl" by F. Scott Fitzgerald — Diana Secker Tesdell

Yes, yes, how was it now?" he thought, going over his dream. "Now, how was it? To be sure! Alabin was giving a dinner at Darmstadt; no, not Darmstadt, but something American. Yes, but then, Darmstadt was in America. Yes, Alabin was giving a dinner on glass tables, and the tables sang, Il mio tesoro - not Il mio tesoro though, but something better, and there were some sort of little decanters on the table, and they were women, too," he remembered. — Leo Tolstoy

The problem with mornings is the way they reveal the things that darkness and moonlight obscure. — Eva Truesdale

Hitler always styled himself as a man who renounced all personal happiness in the service of his people. There is no conclusive evidence of this, but I believe that behind the smokescreen of discretion, Hitler had a very normal love life with Eva Braun. — Volker Ullrich

The Germans invited you to their country to work, not to mingle, and expected you to leave as soon as you were no longer needed. Adapting to their ways was like trying to embrace a hedgehog. There might be a secret tenderness, a gentle core underneath, but you couldn't pass the sharp needles to tap into it. — Elif Shafak

After that he would leave for a while, breaking things as he went, slamming doors to kick them open, picking up decanters to hurl at mirrors, detouring by way of chairs to smash them against the floor. Always when he came back he would sleep in their room, shutting the door against her. Rigid with self-pity she would lie in another room, wishing for the will to leave. Each believed the other a murderer of time, a destroyer of life itself. — Joan Didion

A rack of mugs rested alongside. There were two hand-drawn labels affixed to the decanters. "Happy Tea!" read one, above a drawing of a wide-eyed, grinning Human with frizzy hair standing on end. "Boring Tea," read the other. The Human drawn there looked content, but indifferent. — Becky Chambers

Within are shabby shelves, ranged round with old decanters, bottles, flasks; and in those jaws of swift destruction, like another cursed Jonah (by which name indeed they called him), bustles a little withered old man, who, for their money, dearly sells the sailors deliriums and death. — Herman Melville