Having bowed to the inevitability of the dictum that we must eat to live, we should ignore it and live to eat.

It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.

It must not simply be taken for granted that a given set of ill-assorted people, for no other reason than because it is Christmas, will be joyful to be reunited and to break bread together.

Dictionaries are always fun, but not always reassuring.

Good wine, well drunk, can lend majesty to the human spirit.

Hunger is more than a problem of belly and guts, and ... the satisfying of it can and must and does nourish the spirit as well as the body.

I cannot count the good people I know who to my mind would be even better if they bent their spirits to the study of their own hungers.