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71 xxxiii Be Drunk You must be drunk always. That is everything: the only question. Not to feel the horrible burden of Time that crushes your shoulders and bends you earthward, you must be drunk without respite. But drunk on what? On wine, on poetry, on virtue—take your pick. But be drunk. And if it should chance, on the steps of a palace, in the green weeds of a ditch, in the dreary solitude of your bedroom, you awake, your drunkenness grown less or gone, ask of the wind, of the wave, a star, bird, clock, anything fleeing, any that moan, that roll along, that sing, that speak, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock, will reply, “The hour to be drunk! Not to be Time’s racked slaves, be drunk;bedrunkwithoutrespite.Onwine,onpoetry,onvirtue—take your pick.” ...

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