From Under the Volcano, which, somehow, I am only just now reading.

He was not the person to be seen reeling about in the street. True he might lie down in the street, if need be, like a gentleman, but he would not reel. Ah, what a world it was, that trampled down the truth and drunkards alike!

And:

[I]'s amazing when you come to think of it how the human spirit seems to blossom in the shadow of the abattoir.

How in God's name had I not read this yet?