I Will Only Observe, That That Ethereal

La Volaille Est Pour La Cuisine Ce Qu'est La Toile Pour Les Peintres. Fowls Are To The Kitchen What His Canvas Is To The Painter.

Seating Themselves On The Greensward, They Eat While The Corks Fly And There Is Talk, Laughter And Merriment, And Perfect Freedom, For The Universe Is Their Drawing Room And The Sun Their Lamp. Besides, They Have Appetite, Nature's Special Gift, Which Lends To Such A Meal A Vivacity Unknown Indoors, However Beautiful The Surroundings.

Dessert Without Cheese Is Like A Beauty With Only One Eye

Those Who Have Been Too Long At Their Labor, Who Have Drunk Too Long At The Cup Of Voluptuousness, Who Feel They Have Become Temporarily Inhumane, Who Are Tormented By Their Families, Who Find Life Sad And Love Ephemeral......they Should All Eat Chocolate And They Will Be Comforted.

Poultry Is For The Cook What Canvas Is For A Painter, Or The Cap Of Fortunatus For A Conjurer.