Some inheritances are heavier than gold. Especially when they come in thousands of bottles.

One bottle found its home. Only a few thousand to go.

A little order is the beginning of great peace.

If patience could be bottled, yours would be vintage.

Some people collect wine. Others count bottles.

There's no wish at the end of this tale. Just more bottles.

Grandpa would be proud. Probably.

There was a time when even three bottles felt heavy.

Where chaos once reigned, now there is you.

This bottle is definitely different from the others.

This cellar had residents long before you.

There's a reason some bottles are empty.

Wine gets better with age. Not on the floor.

Grandpa had better not see this.

It's not you, the world is spinning.

Why is the floor moving like that?

Why are you shouting while saying that?

Everyone is talented until a bottle drops.

True masters leave no broken glass behind.

A broken bottle doesn't have to be the last bottle.

Patience like this would be worth a fortune if it were bottled.

You're the only sober one in the cellar.

Not a single thing is out of place in the cellar anymore.