In Vino Veritas Quotes

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In vino veritas
Pliny the Elder
One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.
Karen Chance (Chicks Kick Butt)
Yet as the proverb says, 'In vino veritas,' whether with boys, or without them (In allusion to two proverbs.); and therefore I must speak.
Plato (Symposium)
One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.” I was actually terrified that I already meant it. A guy might just be a keeper who hears your cry for help in his head. And comes into a den of thieves to get you out. And then holds your hair while you throw up for ten minutes.
Karen Chance (In Vino Veritas (Dorina Basarab, #2.1))
In vino veritas -- In wine there is truth.
Kim Gruenenfelder (A Total Waste of Makeup (Charlize Edwards, #1))
In vino veritas.
Rosalind James (Just for Now (Escape to New Zealand, #3))
In vino veritas ("In wine, truth")
Pliny the Elder
I was hoping that the first time you expressed affection for me, it would not be in a room full of strangers. And that you would not have just said it to a sniveling creature like that Raymond!” “I expressed affection for Ray?” “Yes!” “Man, I really must be drunk.” Louis-Cesare just looked at me. I blinked politely back, until I realized that he expected a response.
Karen Chance (In Vino Veritas (Dorina Basarab, #2.1))
You can take him!” Ray whispered in my ear. “Damn straight.” The next thing I remember, Ray was fishing me out from under the table. Or, at least, he was trying to, but Scarface’s foot was in the way. “On. Her. Ass,” Scarface said proudly. “She just slipped,” Ray said, sounding frantic. “Anybody could slip. She’s fine!
Karen Chance (In Vino Veritas (Dorina Basarab, #2.1))
That wasn’t so bad,” I decided, after downing the shot. Maybe I was getting my rhythm. “Because you threw it over your shoulder,” Scarface told me, looking smug. “Did not.” I looked behind me, only to see an outraged vamp with fey wine dripping down his face. “Oops.” “It was for luck,” Ray said defensively, wrapping both my hands around a glass. “Drink!” I drank.
Karen Chance (In Vino Veritas (Dorina Basarab, #2.1))
You speechless might be my new favorite thing.” Finn grinned wickedly right before he swallowed me deep, cheeks hollowing, eyes drifting closed.
Annabeth Albert (Featherbed (Vino & Veritas, #1))
When you are drunk, your understanding of your true self changes. This is the crucial implication of drunkenness as myopia. The old disinhibition idea implied that what was revealed when someone got drunk was a kind of stripped-down, distilled version of their sober self—without any of the muddying effects of social nicety and propriety. You got the real you. As the ancient saying goes, In vino veritas: “In wine there is truth.” But that’s backward. The kinds of conflicts that normally keep our impulses in check are a crucial part of how we form our character. All of us construct our personality by managing the conflict between immediate, near considerations and more complicated, longer-term considerations. That is what it means to be ethical or productive or responsible. The good parent is someone who is willing to temper their own immediate selfish needs (to be left alone, to be allowed to sleep) with longer-term goals (to raise a good child). When alcohol peels away those longer-term constraints on our behavior, it obliterates our true self.
Malcolm Gladwell (Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know)
passes over her face. “He was involved, wasn’t he?” she says quickly. “He got us the E. I thought he might have had the same message.” “And had he?” I say, my head spinning. Why didn’t Sam mention this when I dropped Henry off the other day? That must have been why he was weird, asking me if I was OK. And why didn’t he say anything when I spoke to him earlier tonight? “No, he hasn’t had anything. Oh God, Louise, what are we going to do? Who’s doing this?” I wasn’t expecting this panic from her. In vino veritas indeed. “I don’t know. Have you had any messages from Maria? Since she friend-requested you?” “Two.” Her eyes are huge, like a Disney princess’. “What did they say?” “I had one not long after the friend request that just said ‘Still looking good, Sophie.’ And then another one this morning.” “What did it say?” “It just said ‘See you at the reunion, Sophie Hannigan.’ I mean, it’s a message that anyone could have sent. Nothing scary about it, except that it’s from her.” Her voice is a whisper and there is real fear in it. “Oh God, Louise, what shall we do?” “Why didn’t you say all this when I came to your flat? Why did you act like it wasn’t a problem?” My cheeks are flushed; she made me feel so foolish for being upset about the Facebook request from Maria. “I’ve tried not to think about it. What we did… I know it was wrong.
Laura Marshall (Friend Request)
But if the same man is in a quiet corner of a bar, drinking alone, he will get more depressed. Now there’s nothing to distract him. Drinking puts you at the mercy of your environment. It crowds out everything except the most immediate experiences.2 Here’s another example. One of the central observations of myopia theory is that drunkenness has its greatest effect in situations of “high conflict”—where there are two sets of considerations, one near and one far, that are in opposition. So, suppose that you are a successful professional comedian. The world thinks you are very funny. You think you are very funny. If you get drunk, you don’t think of yourself as even funnier. There’s no conflict over your hilariousness that alcohol can resolve. But suppose you think you are very funny and the world generally doesn’t. In fact, whenever you try to entertain a group with a funny story, a friend pulls you aside the next morning and gently discourages you from ever doing it again. Under normal circumstances, the thought of that awkward conversation with your friend keeps you in check. But when you’re drunk? The alcohol makes the conflict go away. You no longer think about the future corrective feedback regarding your bad jokes. Now it is possible for you to believe that you are actually funny. When you are drunk, your understanding of your true self changes. This is the crucial implication of drunkenness as myopia. The old disinhibition idea implied that what was revealed when someone got drunk was a kind of stripped-down, distilled version of their sober self—without any of the muddying effects of social nicety and propriety. You got the real you. As the ancient saying goes, In vino veritas: “In wine there is truth.” But that’s backward. The kinds of conflicts that normally keep our impulses in check are a crucial part of how we form our character. All of us construct our personality by managing the conflict between immediate, near considerations and more complicated, longer-term considerations. That is what it means to be ethical or productive or responsible. The good parent is someone who is willing to temper their own immediate selfish needs (to be left alone, to be allowed to sleep) with longer-term goals (to raise a good child). When alcohol peels away those longer-term constraints on our behavior, it obliterates our true self. So who were the Camba, in reality? Heath says their society was marked by a singular lack of “communal expression.” They were itinerant farmworkers. Kinship ties were weak. Their daily labor tended to be solitary, the hours long.
Malcolm Gladwell (Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know)
In vino veritas. With wine comes truth.
Anonymous
Later on, towards the middle of my life, I grew more and more opposed to alcoholic drinks: I, an opponent of vegetarianism, who have experienced what vegetarianism is, — just as Wagner, who converted me back to meat, experienced it, — cannot with sufficient earnestness advise all more spiritual natures to abstain absolutely from alcohol. Water answers the purpose. . . . I have a predilection in favour of those places where in all directions one has opportunities of drinking from running brooks. In vino Veritas: it seems that here once more I am at variance with the rest of the world about the concept 'Truth' — with me spirit moves on the face of the waters. . . . Here are a few more indications as to my morality. A heavy meal is digested more easily than an inadequate one. The first principle of a good digestion is that the stomach should become active as a whole. A man ought, therefore, to know the size of his stomach. For the same reasons all those interminable meals, which I call interrupted sacrificial feasts, and which are to be had at any table d'hôte, are strongly to be deprecated. Nothing should be eaten between meals, coffee should be given up — coffee makes one gloomy. Tea is beneficial only in the morning. It should be taken in small quantities, but very strong. It may be very harmful, and indispose you for the whole day, if it be taken the least bit too weak. Everybody has his own standard in this matter, often between the narrowest and most delicate limits. In an enervating climate tea is not a good beverage with which to start the day: an hour before taking it an excellent thing is to drink a cup of thick cocoa, feed from oil. Remain seated as little as possible, put no trust in any thought that is not born in the open, to the accompaniment of free bodily motion — nor in one in which even the muscles do not celebrate a feast. All prejudices take their origin in the intestines. A sedentary life, as I have already said elsewhere, is the real sin against the Holy Spirit.
Friedrich Nietzsche (Ecce Homo)
. He was not a man by any means habitually intemperate, and now any one saying that he was tipsy would have maligned him. But he was flushed with much wine, and he was a man whose arrogance in that condition was apt to become extreme. “In vino veritas!” The sober devil can hide his cloven hoof; but when the devil drinks he loses his cunning and grows honest.
Anthony Trollope (Complete Works of Anthony Trollope)
No una certidumbre metódica, oh no, viejo querido, eso no por lo que más quieras, ni un in vino veritas ni una dialéctica a lo Fichte u otros lapidarios spinozianos, solamente como una aceptación en la náusea, Heráclito se había hecho enterrar en un montón de estiércol para curarse la hidropesía(...) En la mierda hasta el cogote, Heráclito el Oscuro, exactamente igual que ellos pero sin el vino, y además para curarse la hidropesía. Entonces tal vez fuera eso, estar en la mierda hasta el cogote y también esperar, porque seguramente Heráclito había tenido que quedarse en la mierda días enteros, y Oliveira se estaba acordando que también Heráclito había dicho que si no se esperaba jamás se encontraría lo inesperado (...) Apretando el cigarrillo entre los labios hasta sentirlo casi como parte de la boca, Oliveira la escuchaba, la dejaba que se fuera apretando contra él, se repetía fríamente que no era mejor que ella y que en el peor de los casos siempre podría curarse como Heráclito, tal vez el mensaje más penetrante del Oscuro era el que no había escrito, dejando que la anécdota, la voz de los discípulos la transmitiera para que quizá algún oído fino entendiese alguna vez.
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
In vino veritas,
Scarlett Avery (Bad Boy SEALs (Dirty British Romance Trilogy #2))
In vino veritas: “In wine there is truth.
Malcolm Gladwell (Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know)
Whit enters and takes off his coat. “It’s March. The trees are still bare.” “I swear I walked past a tree that sprayed its sex pollen all over me. It only takes one tree, Whit. I’ve been sneezing ever since.” “Sex pollen …” Whit blinks at me. “That’s what it is!” “I will never look at trees the same way again. Does that make bees, like, nature’s pimps?
Eden Finley (Headstrong (Vino & Veritas, #3))
Rainn turning up at my game last night was surprising, and even though it was a total boyfriend move, I can’t let myself think that way. We haven’t had an official date or anything, and we’ve hooked up twice. Although, technically, I have come four times in the last eighteen hours or so, so is that one hookup or four? Sex math is hard.
Eden Finley (Headstrong (Vino & Veritas, #3))
Mrs. Embry flips through the book, pausing to read a few paragraphs. “What’s a boy button?” Loud laughter comes from behind me, but when I turn to glare at my boss, it’s hard not to laugh with him. He’s trying to contain it, which only makes his face look strained, and his cheeks turn pink. He waves his hand and abandons his spot where he’s putting the new stock out on shelves, no doubt retreating to the back room to compose himself. “Uh …” I have no idea what to tell Mrs. Embry. “Whatever it is, this man sure likes it being pegged. I’m sold.” She hands me the book to ring it up at the cash register, and it takes a second for me to process what just happened. “Are you sure you want this one?” “This is good.
Eden Finley (Headstrong (Vino & Veritas, #3))
I was talking to my online book club, and they recommended …” She glances around the store as if we’re being watched and then leans in and lowers her voice. “Something called MM romance.” I purse my lips to stop from smiling. “We, uh, do have those books, but, umm, do you know what MM means?” When I started working here, I had no clue. She whispers, “It’s about the gays.” Do not laugh, Rainn. Do not laugh. It’s hard because her tone is so serious. “We keep those books over here.” We move toward the gay romance section, and her little face lights up. “Ooh, what’s better than one shirtless man on a cover but two?” A chuckle finally escapes. She reaches for a book, and my cheeks heat. “That one is kind of … advanced.
Eden Finley (Headstrong (Vino & Veritas, #3))
No one ever walked this world just once. Who we are comes from the heartscape of every life we've lived before.
Garrett Leigh (Heartscape (Vino & Veritas, #2))
vino veritas,
E.L. James (Grey)
Just own it. You like the happiness factor.” I certainly did. Life was full enough of hardship and unexpected heartbreak. It wasn’t too much to ask my fictional escapes to not be all doom and gloom.
Annabeth Albert (Featherbed (Vino & Veritas, #1))
Big, built guys were not my usual flavor at all, but Finn was like a loaded burger after years of poached fish, a craving I couldn’t seem to shut off.
Annabeth Albert (Featherbed (Vino & Veritas, #1))
It’s daylight when I open my eyes again. Tanner’s awake, of course. I wonder if he ever truly sleeps. He stares at me. I stare right back, and a stillness surrounds us that wasn’t there before. As if the frantic nature of our attraction to each other was making everything cloudy. Noisy. My desire for him is far from sated, but I can breathe through it now, and I revel in the fact he hasn’t spoken yet. That the spell is unbroken. Sometimes I’m so frustrated with his silence I could fucking shake him, but when he’s like this I remember that none of it matters. That we have time. And I’m so blessed that a man so fucking sweet wants to be with me that I have no right to complain. About anything. Ever.
Garrett Leigh (Heartscape (Vino & Veritas, #2))
Jax is wrecked. He rests his head on his forearm, breathing heavy, his strong back rippling with the effort to put himself back together. His skin has reddened patches all over where I’ve manhandled him, and I kind of feel bad for him. Because this isn’t over.
Garrett Leigh (Heartscape (Vino & Veritas, #2))