More always means worse.

I want a dish to taste good, rather than to have been seethed in pig's milk and served wrapped in a rhubarb leaf with grated thistle root.

It is no wonder that people are so horrible when they start life as children.

Sex is a momentary itch, love never lets you go.

When I find someone I respect writing about an edgy, nervous wine that dithered in the glass, I cringe. When I hear someone I don't respect talking about an austere, unforgiving wine, I turn a bit austere and unforgiving myself. When I come across stuff like that and remember about the figs and bananas, I want to snigger uneasily. You can call a wine red, and dry, and strong, and pleasant. After that, watch out.

Only a world without love strikes me as instantly and decisively more terrible than one without music.

Outside every fat man there is an even fatter man trying to close in.