One should always be drunk. That is all
that matters; so as not to feel Time’s
horrid burden that breaks your shoulders and grinds you down, you
must get drunk without resting.
But on what? On wine, poetry, or virtue
as you please. But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a
palace, or in the green grass of a ditch, or in the bleak loneliness
of your room, as you wake and find your drunkenness already dying
away, ask the wind, ask the wave, ask the stars, ask the clock – all
that which runs, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all
that which sings, all that which speaks – ask them, what time is it?
and the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds, and the clock, will
all reply: “It’s time to get drunk! So that you may not be the
martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk and never pause for
rest! On wine, poetry, or virtue, as you please!”
– Charles Baudelaire