There's A Communion Of More

Between The Ages Of Twenty And Fifty, John Doe Spends Some Twenty Thousand Hours Chewing And Swallowing Food, More Than Eight Hundred Days And Nights Of Steady Eating. The Mere Contemplation Of This Fact Is Upsetting Enough.

Most Bereaved Souls Crave Nourishment More Tangible Than Prayers: They Want A Steak.

When A Man Is Small, He Loves And Hates Food With A Ferocity Which Soon Dims. At Six Years Old His Very Bowels Will Heave When Such A Dish As Creamed Carrots Or Cold Tapioca Appear Before Him.

Write One Good Clean Sentence And Put A Period At The End Of It. Then Write Another One.

If Time, So Fleeting, Must Like Humans Die, Let It Be Filled With Good Food And Good Talk, And Then Embalmed In The Perfumes Of Conviviality.