“I snapped to consciousness with the incandescent realization that somewhere, deep in our dreams, or deep in unconsciousness, or deep in the afterlife, all conflicts and acrimonies are resolved. That it was consciousness that so unrelentingly afflicted us with suffering.” — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“I tapped a forefinger to my temple and raised my glass of single-vineyard Foxen Pinot. "Between here and here lies the Rubicon of the… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“Miles, it's only morning and you're already drunk." "No, I'm not," I weakly protested. "I'm just thirsty.” — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“I can't kill myself, I thought. I'm too insignificant. I'm nothing. I'm a thumbprint on the first-floor window of a skyscraper, a smudge of… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“I forced a swift smile, then turned back to my glass, salvation and sanctuary viniferously bundled into one.” — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“I snapped to consciousness with the incandescent realization that somewhere, deep in our dreams, or deep in unconsciousness, or deep in the afterlife, all… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“Wine is so complex, I mused. Thousands of experts and hundreds of thousands of amateur experts would rhapsodize or vilify the vinification of these… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“Pinot Noir country. My grape. The one varietal that truly enchants me, both stills and steals my heart with its elusive loveliness and false… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“You're such a cheater. The best wood in your golf bag is your pencil!” — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
“In tasting rooms I can never tell how tipsy I am. But once I'm outside, the awareness factor of my inebriation is greatly magnified.… — Rex Pickett Copy Share Image
