Salad Is Roughage And A French Idea.

It Is Impossible To Think Of Any Good Meal, No Matter How Plain Or Elegant, Without Soup Or Bread In It

It Was There [dijon], I Now Understand, That I Started To Grow Up, To Study, To Make Love, To Eat And Drink, To Be Me And Not What I Was Expected To Be. It Was There That I Learned It Is Blessed To Receive, As Well As That Every Human Being, No Matter How Base, Is Worthy Of My Respect And Even My Envy Because He Knows Something That I May Never Be Old Or Wise Or Kind Or Tender Enough To Know.

When We Exist Without Thought Or Thanksgiving We Are Not Men, But Beasts.

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.

Dictionaries Are Always Fun, But Not Always Reassuring.