I was very good at sitting. But I just read so much research about how horrible sitting is for you. It's like, it's really bad. It's like Paula-Deen-glazed-bacon-doughnut bad. So I now move around as much as possible.
An Englishman teaching an American about food is like the blind leading the one-eyed.
If there is any way you can get colder than you do when you sleep in a bedding roll on the ground in a tent in southern Tunisia two hours before dawn, I don't know about it.
The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite. Without this, it is impossible to accumulate, within the allotted span, enough experience of eating to have anything worth setting down.
If the first requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite, the second is to put in your apprenticeship as a feeder when you have enough money to pay the check but not enough to produce indifference of the total.
The biggest misconception about me is the bad-boy image that everyone stuck me into due to my tattoos, drug days and the constant changes I make with my hair color.
The greatest problem about old age is the fear that it may go on too long.
I'm starting to realize that people are beginning to want to know about me. It's a jolly strange idea.
When I think about atheist friends, including my father, they seem to me like people who have no ear for music, or who have never been in love.
I don't think you can tell the objective truth about a person. That's why people write novels.
