“If dreams were wine, you'd be a sot.”

“You and what army of snaggled toothed wine sots?”

“A Drunkard accuses a Drunkard...A sot became extremely drunk - his legsAnd head sank listless, weighed by wine's thick dregs.A sober neighbour put him in a sackAnd took him homewards hoisted on his back.Another drunk went stumbling by the first,Who woke and stuck his head outside and cursed."Hey, you, you lousy dipsomaniac,"He yelled as he was borne off in the sack,"If you'd had fewer drinks, just two or three,You would be walking now as well as me.”

“If she fell, if she broke, you'd find a million fragments in the morning. Bright crystal and clear wine on the parquet flooring, that's all you'd see at dawn.”

“Whiskey claims to itself alone the exclusive office of sot-making.”

“I knew a brother drowned himself in wine once. It was a poor vintage, though, and his corpse did not improve it.""You drank the wine?""It's an awful thing to find a brother dead. You'd have need of a drink as well, Lord Snow.”