Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
Both to the rich and poor, wine is the happy antidote for sorrow.
Solace? That's why God made fermented beverages and the blues.
When there is plenty of wine, sorrow and worry take wing.
Smooth out with wine the worries of a wrinkled brow.
What the English like to do is to face reality with a glass of port and a tear and fade off like Basil Rathbone into the sunset.
We were not a hugging people. In terms of emotional comfort it was our belief that no amount of physical contact could match the healing powers of a well made cocktail.
When things go wrong and will not come right, Though you do the best you can, When life looks black as the hour of night, A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.
