Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale, And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.

She was drinking champagne and straight vodka and occasionally popping a pill, ... I said, 'Marilyn, the combination of pills and alcohol will kill you.' And she said, 'It hasn't killed me yet.' Then she took another drink and popped another pill. I know at night she took barbiturates.

Every time I'd go out drinking I was looking for something new. But it was the same every time. I'd wake up in some bed with some person, I had a hangover and a show to do. And the truth is, it was the same every time. But now life is... pretty interesting without the alcohol.

Here, drink your liqueur," Henry said, tossing back her drink. "I carry it with me everywhere because it's the only kind of drink that Leo doesn't like, so there's a chance I'll still have some tomorrow.

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.