In General, I Think, Human Beings Are

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.

On The Other Hand, A Flaccid, Moping, Debauched Mollusc, Tired From Too Much Love And Loose-nerved From General World Conditions, Can Be A Shameful Thing Served Raw Upon The Shell.

I Believe That One Of The Most Dignified Ways We Are Capable Of, To Assert And Then Reassert Our Dignity In The Face Of Poverty And War's Fears And Pains, Is To Nourish Ourselves With All Possible Skill, Delicacy, And Ever-increasing Enjoyment.

A Complete Lack Of Caution Is Perhaps One Of The True Signs Of A Real Gourmet.

Probably The Most Satisfying Soup In The World For People Who Are Hungry, As Well As For Those Who Are Tired Or Worried Or Cross Or In Debt Or In A Moderate Amount Of Pain Or In Love Or In Robust Health Or In Any Kind Of Business Huggermuggery, Is Minestrone.