
“I'm older and wiser. Just like fine wine, I get better with time.”
2010s, 2015, Interview with Jim Gray (September 2015)
Source: Blood Promise
“I'm older and wiser. Just like fine wine, I get better with time.”
2010s, 2015, Interview with Jim Gray (September 2015)
“I am a connoisseur of fine irony. 'Tis a bit like fine wine, but it has a better bite.”
Source: Princess of the Sword
“I'm sipping on you like some fine wine, though
And when it's over, I press rewind, though”
"679" (feat. Monty)
Chicago Tribune (21 March 2011) http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-live-0321-jennifer-beals-20110320,0,3798764.column,
“"If wine is fine, everything is fine, and if it's bad, never mind, as long as it is wine."”
"Si el vino está bien, todo está bien, y si está mal, da lo mismo, con tal de que sea vino..."
taken by Rock de Lux magazine.
“But I saw the pain and sadness in everything, and swirled it round my mouth like a fine wine.”
Source: Your Voice in My Head
A Literary History of Persia, Vol. 2, p. 123 https://archive.org/details/a-literary-history-of-persia-vol-2-1964
Poetry
“High and fine literature is wine, and mine is only water; but everybody likes water.”
Vague Thoughts On Art (1911)
Context: I cannot help thinking that historians, looking back from the far future, will record this age as the Third Renaissance. We who are lost in it, working or looking on, can neither tell what we are doing, nor where standing; but we cannot help observing, that, just as in the Greek Renaissance, worn-out Pagan orthodoxy was penetrated by new philosophy; just as in the Italian Renaissance, Pagan philosophy, reasserting itself, fertilised again an already too inbred Christian creed; so now Orthodoxy fertilised by Science is producing a fresh and fuller conception of life — a love of Perfection, not for hope of reward, not for fear of punishment, but for Perfection's sake. Slowly, under our feet, beneath our consciousness, is forming that new philosophy, and it is in times of new philosophies that Art, itself in essence always a discovery, must flourish. Those whose sacred suns and moons are ever in the past, tell us that our Art is going to the dogs; and it is, indeed, true that we are in confusion! The waters are broken, and every nerve and sinew of the artist is strained to discover his own safety. It is an age of stir and change, a season of new wine and old bottles. Yet, assuredly, in spite of breakages and waste, a wine worth the drinking is all the time being made.