Enjoyment Quotes

"Why do you do this?"
"I like to do it. I enjoy it. Take your aesthete's taste to purer things. Kill them swiftly if you will, but do it. For do not doubt you are a killer, Louis."

I'll tell you where: someplace warm, a place where the beer flows like wine, where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon
of Capistrano. I'm talking about Aspen.

The taste of his last mouthful lies like rust on his tongue. Harsh, and yet his tongue craves more. At rest in the glass, the wine is rusted purple. So there exists an affinity, a strong mutual pull between wine and tongue. They are complementary. They are in love. The silent tongue calls out, and the wine, though inanimate, will heed the call. Well, it's a theory. Lent support when the glass rises and, this time, not stopping short, delivers one lover to the other. They kiss. There's a little death, an insufficient bliss, but repeatable later.

It all begins with the soil, the vine, the grape. The smell of the vineyard. Like inhaling birth. It awakens some... ancestral... some... primordial... anyway, some deeply imprinted... and probably subconscious place in my soul.