Painting, it is true, was undergoing a series of -isms reminiscent of the whims of a pregnant woman.

No yoga exercise, no meditation in a chapel filled with music will rid you of your blues better than the humble task of making your own bread.

. . . word-sniffing . . . is an addiction, like glue -- or snow -- sniffing in a somewhat less destructive way, physically if not economically. . . . As an addict, I am almost guiltily interested in converts to my own illness . . .

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

It is hard and perhaps impossible for many people to recognize the difference between innocence and naiveté.

Sharing our meals should be a joyful and a trustful act, rather than the cursory fulfillment of our social obligations.

At its best, [Japanese cooking] is inextricably meshed with aesthetics, with religion, with tradition and history. It is evocative of seasonal changes, or of one's childhood, or of a storm at sea.