Drunk Night Out Quotes & Sayings

And so to my fool's bed. What was that? No, no, not a girl crying in the garden. No one, cold, hungry, and banished, was shivering there, longing and not daring to come in. It was the chains swinging at the well. It would be folly to get up and go out and call again: Psyche, Psyche, my only love. I am a great queen. I have killed a man. I am drunk like a man. All warriors drink deep after the battle. Bardia's lips on my hand were like the touch of lightning. All great princes have mistresses and lovers. There's the crying again. No, it's only the buckets at the well. "Shut the window, Poobi. To your bed, child. Do you love me, Poobi? Kiss me good night. Good night." The king's dead. He'll never pull my hair again. A straight thrust and then a cut in the leg. That would have killed him. I am the Queen; I'll kill Orual too. — C.S. Lewis

I go on the road all the time, but I'm only performing for two hours a night, and then I'll do a meet-and-greet, and then I'll get a bite to eat, get drunk, pass out, wake up the next day, sleeping the next day, sleeping off the hangover, and then I'm in the next city. — Gabriel Iglesias

I think anyone who stops at a gas station at night is up to no good. I think that if cops want to stop drunk driving, they should hide out in the bushes at the Taco Bell drive-through. I think if you're a guy and you pull down your pants and the girl you're with starts texting, you have a small penis. — Bill Konigsberg

My mom doesn't say anything. I don't say anything. Neither of us knows yet what you should say when rape victims blame themselves: 'It was not your fault.'

It was not your fault, even if you were drunk, even if you were wearing a low-cut minidress, even if you were out walking alone at night, even if you were on a date with the rapist and kind of liked him but didn't want to have sex with him. — Joanna Connors

They weren't drunk - they were just being loud. I was trying out for the football team and needed to get some sleep. One night I'd finally had enough and when Ted ran by my open window I reached out, grabbed him by the throat, and pulled him halfway into my room. I said, "Hey, what the hell's the matter with you? — Ted Turner

Time to go," he says. "I already see this heading somewhere I'm too drunk to go right now. I'll see you tomorrow night." I jump up and run and block the window before he can leave. He stops in front of me and folds his arms over his chest. "Stay," I say. "Please. Just lay in bed with me. We can put pillows between us and I promise not to seduce you since you're drunk. Just stay for an hour, I don't want you to go yet." He immediately turns and heads back to the bed. "Okay," he says simply. He throws himself onto my bed and pulls the covers out from beneath him.
That was easy. — Colleen Hoover

Ever since the night of his breakup with Paul - ever since he got stupidly drunk and kissed his best friend - Ryan had been looking at him a little oddly. James didn't think Ryan suspected the truth, but Ryan had been extra attentive, as if he was afraid Jamie was depressed. The worst thing was, James could remember only vaguely the kiss they shared, or rather, the kisses they shared, because apparently when he was drunk, he had no shame and wasn't above using Ryan's pity and kindness. The memory alone made him cringe. He'd never thought he could be so desperate and pathetic, but apparently, he was.

It wasn't the only thing that worried him. He could vaguely remember telling Ryan something before passing out, but no matter how hard he strained his memory, it remained blank. What if he'd said something incriminating? — Alessandra Hazard

Three a.m. drunks, all over America, were staring at the walls, having finally give it up. You didn't have to be drunk to get hurt, to be zeroed out by a woman; but you could get hurt and become a drunk. You might think for a while, especially when you were young, that luck was with you, and sometimes it was. But there were all manner of averages and laws working that you know nothing about, even as you imagined things were going well. Some night, some hot summer Thursday, night you became the drunk, you were out there alone in a cheap rented room, and no matter how many times you'd been out there before, it was no help, it was even worse because you had got to thinking you wouldn't face it again. All you could do was light another cigarette, pour another drink, check the peeling walls for lips and eyes. What men and women did to each other was beyond comprehension. — Charles Bukowski

This particular evening, a giant yellow moon crested over a clear warm sky, so every fixture, the owls included, was floodlit like a carnival on its last night in town, and moon-drunk roars came from every corner. A perfect night to go out and make some dirty magic. * — Charlie Jane Anders

Looking as sharp as Sweeney Todd's razor, Roger struck a formidable figure as he donned his smart clothes and tie. At times, he would often talk of the night of his career when he fought John Conteh. He took the defeat of that match very personally and would often punch out a drunk who scoffed at his midlands accent and his past pride and glory. — Stephen Richards

Many years later after the sell-outs, betrayals, and hatred which would tear us apart, when our brotherhood had been destroyed, I'd always look back and remember that night. That fucking wild night at the KeyClub, when the smoke stung my eyes but my world was full of nothing but blind hope. When life was not a mockery, but a very real fire which flamed through my veins like the most incredible drug... the night when Kelly-Lee Obann, drunk, high and barely 20 the time, looked out through his hair with a terrible nakedness and said to me;
"We're not gonna make it out of this alive. You know that, right? — H. Alazhar

Drunk people say the damnedest things! Not every night out is book-worthy, but a comment here or there gives me a good laugh. So, if you are ever feeling down and need a good laugh, check out our ever-growing Hall on the website for what's been said recently that gave me a chuckle. Hopefully it will brighten your day:

Alright ladies, let's party like rock stars and fuck like pornstars — Jason Calloway

I haven't done anything you're supposed to do. Like get so drunk you puke and don't remember the rest of the night."
"Overrated, I swear."
She looked at me, that deadly look on her face, and I held up my hands. "Fine. You wanna get drunk and puke, I'm not gonna stop you."
"But I want to do, like more than just drinking." Her brow furrowed and I could practically see the wheels in her brain spinning. "I should make a list and outline a plan."
I was going to point out that list-making wasn't the best way to let loose, but I decided to let it go. — Cindi Madsen

We caught seventy-five frogs that night! We left our ice chest in the truck, so I was putting frogs in my socks and the pockets of my pants and shirt.
When we couldn't carry any more frogs, we made our way back to my truck. As soon as we arrived, police cars came from every direction. A homeowner in the neighborhood must have seen my truck and feared we were burglars. As the police questioned us, they must have thought Mike was drunk, because he couldn't stop laughing. They kept asking me what we'd been drinking and smoking and where it was. When a policeman shined a light on my shirt, I figured out what Mike was giggling about. I forgot I'd stuffed a frog into the front pocket of my shirt and buttoned it. Its legs were sticking out of my pocket and it looked like it was wearing a diaper! The police let us go but warned us to never sneak back onto the golf course because it was trespassing. We probably went back three or four times by a different route and never were caught. — Jase Robertson

For it was Saturday night, the best and bingiest glad-time of the week, one of the fifty-two holidays in the slow-turning Big Wheel of the year, a violent preamble to a prostrate Sabbath. Piled up passions were exploded on Saturday night, and the effect of a week's monotonous graft in the factory was swilled out of your system in a burst of goodwill. You followed the motto of 'be drunk and be happy,' kept your crafty arms around female waists, and felt the beer going beneficially down into the elastic capacity of your guts. — Alan Sillitoe

But as spring blooms, the birds grow drunk with love and the bushes riot with their songs. Far, far into the night, darkness mutes but does not silence them, and small melodious conversations break out at all hours, invisible and strangely intimate in the dead of night, as though one overheard the lovemaking of strangers in the room next door. — Diana Gabaldon

I made for the door, and the moment I had my hand on the knob, Elijah pulled me back, again. That's all he'd been doing. His hazel eyes bored right into me as he said, "I don't want your money. I don't care what you had to do to make it; I just care that you're alive." Eli did that nervous thing I'd figured was a habit and bit the inside of his bottom lip. Shamefully, my eyes tracked the movement. "I didn't bring you here because I was drunk, T. Yes, I was a bit out of it, but I was mostly intoxicated by the sight of you. No alcohol could do to me what you did last night. — Nadege Richards

While the sound mixing was underway, Bonzo was on the loose, taking care of buisness his own way. One night he showed up backstage at a Deep Purple concert at the Nassau Coliseum on Long Island. Bonzo was drunk and in very high spirits, and was wobbling on his feet in the wings when he noticed a free microphone during a lull in the music. Staggering forward, Bonzo walked out onto the stage before the Deep Purple roadies could grab him. The group stopped playing, amazed, as Bonzo grabbed the mike and shouted, 'My name is John Bonham of Led Zeppelin, and I just wanna tell ya that we got a new album comin' out and that it's fuckin' great!!' Then Bonzo turned to leave, but before he went he turned back and gratuitously insulted Deep Purple's guitarist. 'And as far as Tommy Bolin is concerned, he can't play for shit!! — Stephen Davis

Getting drunk or high every night. Being hungover every morning. You run out of options at a certain point. You come to understand why everybody else is living the boring life. And it doesn't look so boring anymore. — Paul Russell

one day Manuel returned to the place, and
she was gone -
no argument, no note, just
gone, all her clothes
all her stuff, and
Manuel sat by the window and looked out
and didn't make his job
the next day or the
next day or
the day after, he
didn't phone in, he
lost his job, got a
ticket for parking, smoked
four hundred and sixty cigarettes, got
picked up for common drunk, bailed
out, went
to court and pleaded
guilty.

when the rent was up he
moved from Beacon street, he
left the cat and went to live with
his brother and
they'd get drunk
every night
and talk about how
terrible
life was.

Manuel never again smoked
long slim cigars
because Shirley always said
how
handsome he looked
when he did. — Charles Bukowski

About a week after they had come back, a load of mail came to the island. They were the first letters the men had received in several weeks, and for a night it relieved the changeless pattern of their lives. One of the infrequent rations of beer was given out the same night, and the men finished their three cans quickly, and sat about without saying very much. The beer had been far too inadequate to make them drunk; it made them only moody and reflective, it opened the gate to all their memories, and left them sad, hungering for things they could not name. — Norman Mailer

Memory in the mind of man can adapt to the worst conditions.
I'll give you an example, an analogy of sorts: Each night I sop rags with beer and lay them out in careful strips. With rags soaked in beer I tease cockroaches from a crack in the baseboard. By morning they're good and drunk and I pop them into a baggy, then take them outside and throw the little buggers away. — Bob Thurber

I don't even remember what happy felt like. I think it probably felt like that night I got really drunk with James. Soft and fuzzy, everything spinning and out of focus. — Kiersten White

You are learning that what you require and what your frame may endure can be two very different things. If only I could have a solon for every patient who came to me speaking as you do! 'Ibelius, I have smoked Jeremite powders for twenty years and now my throat bleeds, make me well!' 'Ibelius, I have been drunk and brawling all night, and now my eye has been cut out! Restore my vision, damn you.' Why, let us not speak of solons, let us instead say a copper baron per such outburst...I could still retire to Lashain a gentleman! — Scott Lynch

We are going as fast as we can, living life at a dizzying speed, and God is nowhere to be found. We're not rejecting God; we just don't have time for him. We've lost him in the blurred landscape as we rush to church. We don't struggle with the Bible, but with the clock. It's not that we're too decadent; we're too busy. We don't feel guilty because of sin, but because we have no time for our spouses, our children, or our God. It's not sinning too much that's killing our souls, it's our schedule that's annihilating us. Most of us don't come home at night staggering drunk. Instead, we come home staggering tired, worn out, exhausted and drained because we live too fast. — Mike Yaconelli

Most of the men thrown into the back of the van that night were drunk, but none was in public: each was in his own home. And yet not one of them questioned the legality of his arrest. After nearly a dace of democracy, each assumed that the cops had every right to drag him out of his home and throw him in prison. — Jonny Steinberg

I knew Chaz was a good guy, if misguided and gullible. He'd swallowed Buck's side of what happened between us, had argued with Erin that maybe I was drunk that night and didn't remember everything clearly. He was probably one of those boys to whom rapists were ugly men who jumped out of bushes, assaulting random girls. Rapists weren't your nice-guy coworker, or your frat brother, or your best friend. Maybe it never occurred to him that his best friend was capable of ripping a girl's self-confidence away in the span of five minutes. — Tammara Webber

I remember my favorite nights were just getting drunk and walking around outside the East Village kicking over garbage cans. Just the night. Just that it would be night again. And you could go out, you know? It just seemed glorious. (Please Kill Me.) — Legs McNeil

WHY did she do this? She was a terrible drunk texter. All the things she wanted to say to people during the day came out at night, like a vampire. — Harriet Evans

Kimberly Mira blinked into the dark and sniffed the air. Clean cotton sheets? A soft mattress cushioned her back. Her skin grew goose bumps as the wind howled outside. This wasn't heaven. Her skin felt grimy and her head pounded like she'd drunk too much last night. Flashes of an out-of-control fire replayed in her mind. She sucked in her breath like she needed to hold as much oxygen in as possible. She told herself to be normal and that the intense fire was in her mind's eye. Eventually she relaxed her body. Another memory surfaced as she closed her eyes and remembered falling into depths — Victoria Pinder

it was the night when people got paid and didn't have to work the next day, and so by tradition went out to get drunk and into fights. Then — Iain M. Banks

The thing people don't understand about an army is its great, unpunctuated wastes of inaction: you have to scavenge for food, you are camped out somewhere with a rising water level because your mad capitaine says so, you are shifted abruptly in the middle of the night into some indefensible position, so you never really sleep, your equipment is defective, the gunners keep causing small unwanted explosions, the crossbowmen are either drunk or praying, the arrows are ordered up but not here yet, and your whole mind is occupied by a seething anxiety that things are going to go badly because il principe, or whatever little worshipfulness is in charge today, is not very good at the basic business of thinking. It didn't take him many winters to get out of fighting and into supply. In Italy, you could always fight in the summer, if you felt like it. If you wanted to go out. — Hilary Mantel

I remember having my father stand over me when I had driven over my own foot; one leg was out of the car and one leg was in the car. He looked at me and told me that I was a drunk and that he was ashamed to call me his son. That night, I stopped drinking and I never drank again; I was twenty four. — Randy Bachman

None of these lads here were out getting fighting drunk last night. And thus we wear down mountains. Water dripping on a stone, dissolving and removing. Changing the shape of the world, one drop at a time. Water dripping on a stone, Commander. Water flowing underground, bubbling up in unexpected places. — Terry Pratchett

Yeah, that came out of a reading. It was great. It's such a fun crew to be with, and we all went out the night before and that really encouraged us to go out and get drunk. — John Leguizamo

I was walking late one night along a tree-lined path; a chestnut fell at my feet. The noise it made as it burst, the resonance it provoked in me, and an upheaval out of all proportion to this insignificant event thrust me into miracle, into the rapture of the definitive, as if there were no more questions - only answers. I was drunk on a thousand unexpected discoveries, none of which I could make use of. ...
This is how I nearly reached the Supreme. But instead I went on with my walk. — Emil Cioran

No one can get reall drunk on a novle or a painting, but who can help getting drunk on Beethoven's night, Bartok's Sonata for two Pianos and percussion or the Beatles' White Album? He loved mozart as much as rock.
He considered music a liberating force, it liberated him from lonliness, introversion, the dust of the library; it opened the door of hi body and allowed his soul to step out into the world to make friends, He loved to dance an regretted that Sabina did not share his passion
pg 92-93 — Milan Kundera

To get the best out of life here ... Good grief. There's plenty of it about, so indulge. Give yourself some thing to remember. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Gamble. Get drunk. See how long you can stay awake. Go for long walks at night. Discover what you're afraid of doing, and then do it. — Philip Pullman

If people want to think I get drunk and stay out all night, let'em. That's how I got here you know I drink because my body craves, needs alcohol. I don't drink, my body's a drunk. — Dean Martin

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

Contrary to vulgar legend the lives of great ballerinas are not entirely given up to a few minutes of graceful movement every night followed by champagne drunk out of their toeshoes till dawn, in the company of financiers ... no, most of their time is spent in filthy rehearsal halls, inhaling dust, or else in class, daily, year in year out, practicing, practicing even after they are already prima ballerinas. — Gore Vidal