... living out of sight of any shore does rich and powerfully strange things to humans.

For me, a plain baked potato is the most delicious one....It is soothing and enough.

One martini is just right. Two martinis are too many. Three martinis are never enough.

The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight... [Breadmaking is] one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world's sweetest smells... there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel. that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.

old age is more bearable if it can be helped by an early acceptance of being loved and of loving.

When we exist without thought or thanksgiving we are not men, but beasts.

There is a mistaken idea, ancient but still with us, that an overdose of anything from fornication to hot chocolate will teach restraint by the very results of its abuse.