Last week, I had to offer my publisher a bottle that was far too good for him simply because there was nothing between the insulting and the superlative.

To the Parisians, and especially to the children, all Americans are now 'heros du cinema.' This is particularly disconcerting to sensitive war correspondents, if any, aware, as they are, that these innocent thanks belong to those American combat troops who won the beachhead and then made the breakthrough. There are few such men in Paris.

I had an attack of the gout two days before pulling out, and I went limping off to the war instead of coming limping back from it.

The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite. Without this, it is impossible to accumulate, within the allotted span, enough experience of eating to have anything worth setting down.

If there is any way you can get colder than you do when you sleep in a bedding roll on the ground in a tent in southern Tunisia two hours before dawn, I don't know about it.

I used to be shy about ordering a steak after I had eaten a steak sandwich, but I got used to it.

My old friend looked at me with a new respect. He was discovering in me a capacity for hypocrisy that he had never credited me with before.