Dom Perignon Quotes

What did Dom Perignon say to fellow monks after he invented champagne? ... Come quickly, I am tasting the stars.

My glass is not only half-full, it holds five-hundred-dollar-a-bottle Dom Perignon champagne.

Come quickly, I am tasting the stars!

I cocked an ear, but there was nothing much to hear. A girl was on the phone next door, complaining about some guy to a girlfriend, and someone down a floor was either talking to his cat or having a psychotic episode, but both voices were clearer than the soft noises coming from the living room. The vamps were presumably cleaning the wounds better than I’d been able to do at the bar, and bandaging him up. I knew nobody was planning a snack– it would be like offering people used to Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon a sack of stale Fritos and a flat Coke. Sloppy seconds weren’t likely to appeal.

Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!

Even for those who dislike champagne, myself among them, there are two champagnes one can't refuse: Dom Perignon and the even superior Cristal, which is bottled in a natural-colored glass that displays its pale blaze, a chilled fire of such prickly dryness that, swallowed, seems not to have been swallowed at all, but instead to have turned to vapors on the tongue and burned there to one damp sweet ash.

At her feet, a luminous path lit the way through the grassy field. It was made entirely from glow sticks; each of the radiant lights had been painstakingly set into the ground at perfect intervals, tracing a curved trail that shone through the darkness. Apparently, Jay had been busy. Near the water’s edge, at the end of the iridescent pathway and beneath a stand of trees, Jay had set up more than just a picnic. He had created a retreat, an oasis for the two of them. Violet shook her head, unable to find the words to speak. He led her closer, and Violet followed, amazed. Jay had hung more of the luminous glow sticks from the low-hanging branches, so they dangled overhead. They drifted and swayed in the breeze that blew up from the lake. Beneath the natural canopy of limbs, he had set up two folding lounge chairs and covered them with pillows and blankets. “I’d planned to use candles, but the wind would’ve blown ‘em out, so I had to improvise.” “Seriously, Jay? This is amazing.” Violet felt awed. She couldn’t imagine how long it must have taken him. “I’m glad you like it.” He led her to one of the chairs and drew her down until she was sitting before he started unpacking the cooler. She half-expected him to pull out a jar of Beluga caviar, some fancy French cheeses, and Dom Perignon champagne. Maybe even a cluster of grapes to feed to her…one at a time. So when he started laying out their picnic, Violet laughed. Instead of expensive fish eggs and stinky cheeses, Jay had packed Daritos and chicken soft tacos-Violet’s favorites. And instead of grapes, he brought Oreos. He knew her way too well. Violet grinned as he pulled out two clear plastic cups and a bottle of sparkling cider. She giggled. “What? No champagne?” He shrugged, pouring a little of the bubbling apple juice into each of the flimsy cups. “I sorta thought that a DUI might ruin the mood.” He lifted his cup and clinked-or rather, tapped-it against hers. “Cheers.” He watched her closely as she took a sip. For several moments, they were silent. The lights swayed above them, creating shadows that danced over them. The park was peaceful, asleep, as the lake’s waters lapped the shore. Across from them, lights from the houses along the water’s edge cast rippling reflections on the shuddering surface. All of these things transformed the ordinary park into a romantic winter rendezvous.

Forbes cost of living extremely well index (CLEWI) An amazing thing I came across while researching the question of just what it is that very very rich people do with their money. As Forbes says, the CLEWI is to the very rich what the CPI is to “ordinary people.” There are forty items on it, and they are hilarious, though perhaps you shouldn’t show them to your left-wing aunt if she’s suffering from high blood pressure: Russian sable fur coats from Bloomingdale’s, shirts from Turnbull and Asser, Gucci loafers, handmade John Lobb shoes, a year at Groton boarding school, a yacht, a horse, a pool, a Learjet, a Roller, a case of Dom Perignon, forty-five minutes at a psychiatrist’s on the Upper East Side (!), an hour’s estate planning with a lawyer, and, amusingly/annoyingly, a year at Harvard.36 In 2012, the CLEWI went up 2.6 percent but the CPI went up only 1.4 percent.

To celebrate when I finally landed my fantasy job, William surprised me by preparing- all by himself- a feast of my favorite French foods: escargots with garlic butter and a splash of cognac; langoustines (flown-in overnight from Brittany), sautéed in their shells with butter and garlic and a hint of malagache curry; potatoes daphinoise (a little overpowering with the langoustines, I know, but I was going after my favorites); and haricots verts sautéed in shallots, all paired with a vintage Dom Perignon.

You believe in authority, I believe in Myself I'm a Molotov cocktail, you're Dom Perignon

Come quickly: I am tasting the stars.

Come quickly: I am tasting the stars!

the Cristal had flowed and two bottles of Dom Perignon had been bought by her last client, making her boss a very happy man.

Ruth: Grounding Bondi's flights of fancy By Daniel Ruth, Times Columnist | 722 words Could this be the final call for Pam Bondi's reign as the attorney general of feedbags? For the past four years, Bondi has used her office as if it were a subsidiary of Expedia, jetting off hither and yon to attend fancy-pants soirees at resorts and hotels that were organized by the Republican Attorneys General Association. She was so good at navigating the buffet line, the group named her its president (or is it Dom Perignon-in-chief?) for 2015.

But seldom do we look hard at the corners, the niches, and the slants in which the apartment lies and tells nothing but the truth.  Slanted corner niches especially where everything collects and is rarely swept, too hard to reach and bothersome considering no one will ever notice, no one will ever see, no one will ever care.  This is where debris collects, particles, follicles, shards of shattered crystal Christmas tree icicles, layered, mingled, packed, a crumb from a Dom Perignon cork lies crotched beside a crusted booger flicked discreetly out of sight at the same affair, emulsified by shed lint and dust, they remain so companioned unto dust (but such arrangements are not uncommon).