... there can be no more shameless carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself.

It is impossible to think of any good meal, no matter how plain or elegant, without soup or bread in it

I wrote from the time I was four. It was my way of screaming and yelling, the primal scream. I wrote like a junkie, I had to have my daily fix.

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

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.

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.

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