If alcohol is queen, then tobacco is her consort. It's a fond companion for all occasions, a loyal friend through fair weather and... foul. People smoke to celebrate a happy moment, or to hide a bitter regret. Whether you're alone or with friends, it's a joy for all the senses. What lovelier sight is there than that double row of white cigarettes, lined up like soldiers on parade and wrapped in silver paper?... I love to touch the pack in my pocket, open it, savor the feel of the cigarette between my fingers, the paper on my lips, the taste of tobacco on my tongue. I love to watch the flame spurt up, love to watch it come closer and closer, filling me with its warmth.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Alcohol doesn't console, it doesn't fill up anyone's psychological gaps, all it replaces is the lack of God. It doesn't comfort ma...n. On the contrary, it encourages him in his folly, it transports him to the supreme regions where he is master of his own destiny.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
No other human being, no woman, no poem or music, book or painting can replace alcohol in its power to give man the illusion of re...al creation.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Some parents feel that if they introduce their children to alcohol gradually in the home environment, the children will learn to u...se alcohol in moderation. I'm not sure that's such a good idea. First of all, alcohol is not healthy for the growing child. Second, introducing alcohol to a child suggests that you condone drinking--even to the point where you want to teach your child how to drink.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
In short, camp mocks bad taste; kitsch exploits it. Camp arouses our sense of the ridiculous and we respond with amused tolerance.... When we see Bette Davis or Ruth Gordon, fine if sometimes flamboyant performers, relax their self-discipline and overextend their acting technique in a superfluity of ineffective gestures--finger-twitching and hip-switching, hand-rubbing or hip-protruding--we label the sum total as camp. Mae West, whose nasally provocative delivery, eye-rolling, lip-pursing, and pelvic tics parody the conventional invitation to dalliance, is never out of control and is camp, pure and simple.... Camp was also the stock-in-trade of Carmen Miranda, whose retina-searing Technicolor get-ups, skyscraper headdresses bearing a season's fruit harvest, clomping platform shoes and garbled English projected in a voice that could be heard on Mars all came together beautifully in her campy personification of Exaggeration. Had we been blessed with the Brazilian Bombshell's own blazing interpretation of Joan of Arc, the grotesque, if fascinating, result would surely have been kitsch.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
[T]ea, that uniquely English meal, that unnecessary collation at which no stimulants--neither alcohol nor meat--are served, that c...omforting repast of which to partake is as good as second childhood.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is intimate, the third is routine. After that you take the girl's clothe...s off.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »