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Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

Wine is bottled poetry.

Many in the world are searching, often intensely, for a source of refreshment that will quench their yearning for meaning and direction in their lives. They crave a cool, satisfying drink of insight and knowledge that will soothe their parched souls.

To take wine into our mouths is to savor a droplet of the river of human history.

In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.

Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.

You have a wine tasting of different years, and we're sort of doing that with our music, giving them a taste of what Journey used to be like.

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and, squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest inn which first met my gaze.