A bottle of wine begs to be shared; I have never met a miserly wine lover.
Cheese is milk's leap towards immortality.
If food is the body of good living, wine is its soul.
Name me any liquid — except our own blood — that flows more intimately and incessantly through the labyrinth of symbols we have conceived to mark our status as human beings, from the rudest peasant festival to the mystery of the Eucharist.
The man who attracts luck carries with him the magnet of preparation.
I found nothing really wrong with this autobiography except poor choice of subject.