I had no idea Balzac was such a coffee addict:
Coffee — he called it a “great power in [his] life” — made possible a grueling writing schedule that had him going to bed at six, rising at 1am to work until eight in the morning, then grabbing forty winks before putting in another seven hours.
A writer after my own heart. Some days, though, he would apparently have 50 cups or more. Suddenly all my trips to the Coffee House and the break room at the office don’t seem so bad.