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

All men are hungry. They always have been. They must eat, and when they deny themselves the pleasures of carrying out that need, they are cutting off part of their possible fullness, their natural realization of life, whether they are rich or poor.

For anyone addicted to reading commonplace books . . . finding a good new one is much like enduring a familiar recurrence of malaria, with fever, fits of shaking, strange dreams . . . .

... I think we grieve forever, but that goes for love too, fortunately for us all.

Cooks must feed their egos as well as their customers.

It is all a question of weeding out what you yourself like best to do, so that you can live most agreeably in a world full of an increasing number of disagreeable surprises.

...for me there is too little of life to spend most of it forcing myself into detachment from it.