Dessert Without Cheese Is Like A Beauty

If Any Man Has Drunk A Little Too Deeply From The Cup Of Physical Pleasure; If He Has Spent Too Much Time At His Desk That Should Have Been Spent Asleep; If His Fine Spirits Have Become Temporarily Dulled; If He Finds The Air Too Damp, The Minutes Too Slow, And The Atmosphere Too Heavy To Withstand; If He Is Obsessed By A Fixed Idea Which Bars Him From Any Freedom Of Thought: If He Is Any Of These Poor Creatures, We Say, Let Him Be Given A Good Pint Of Amber-flavored Chocolate... And Marvels Will Be Performed.

An Intelligently Planned Feast Is Like A Summing Up Of The Whole World, Where Each Part Is Represented By Its Envoys.

Smell And Taste Are In Fact But A Single Composite Sense, Whose Laboratory Is The Mouth And Its Chimney The Nose.

The Limits Of Pleasure Are As Yet Neither Known Nor Fixed, And That We Have No Idea What Degree Of Bodily Bliss We Are Capable Of Attaining.

The Discovery Of A New Dish Confers More Happiness On Humanity, Than The Discovery Of A New Star.