All Men, Even Those We Call Savages,

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.

I Am Essentially An Amateur Medecin, And This To Me Is Almost A Mania.

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.

The Pleasures Of The Table Belong To All Times And Ages, To Every Country And Every Day; They Go Hand In Hand With All Our Other Pleasures, Outlast Them, And Remain To Console Us For Their Loss.

Dessert Without Cheese Is Like A Beauty With Only One Eye