... Most Bereaved Souls Crave Nourishment More

Dining Partners, Regardless Of Gender, Social Standing, Or The Years They've Lived, Should Be Chosen For Their Ability To Eat - And Drink! - With The Right Mixture Of Abandon And Restraint. They Should Enjoy Food, And Look Upon Its Preparation And Its Degustation As One Of The Human Arts.

Painting, It Is True, Was Undergoing A Series Of -isms Reminiscent Of The Whims Of A Pregnant Woman.

Death ... So Seldom Happens Nowadays In The Awesome Quiet Of A Familiar Chamber. Most Of Us Die Violently, Thanks To The Advance Of Science And Warfare. If By Chance We Are Meant To End Life In Our Beds, We Are Whisked Like Pox Victims To The Nearest Hospital, Where We Are Kept As Alone And Unaware As Possible Of The Approach Of Disintegration.

Wine And Cheese Are Ageless Companions, Like Aspirin And Aches, Or June And Moon, Or Good People And Noble Ventures.

It Seems To Me That Our Three Basic Needs, For Food And Security And Love, Are So Mixed And Mingled And Entwined That We Cannot Straightly Think Of One Without The Others. So It Happens That When I Write Of Hunger, I Am Really Writing About Love And The Hunger For It, And Warmth And The Love Of It And The Hunger For It… And Then The Warmth And Richness And Fine Reality Of Hunger Satisfied… And It Is All One.