I am determined that my children should have no financial security. It ruins people not having to earn money.

I am not a chef. I am not even a trained or professional cook. My qualification is as an eater.

You could probably get through life without knowing how to roast a chicken, but the question is, would you want to?

I was a quiet teenager, introverted, full of angst.

You cannot truly say you live well unless you eat well.

Sometimes...we don't want to feel like a postmodern, postfeminist, overstretched woman but, rather, a domestic goddess, trailing nutmeggy fumes of baking pie in our languorous wake.

Sometimes it's good just to be seduced by the particular cheeses spread out in front of you on a cheese counter.

I am always surprised when people read double entendres into my innocuous babble.

I don't believe in low-fat cooking.

I don't believe you can ever really cook unless you love eating.

I never taste the wine first in restaurants, I just ask the waiter to pour.

I think if God came down and gave us all His version of Empathy then all the world’s problems would surely become a thing of the past.

Competition is easier to accept if you realize it is not an act of oppression or abrasion. ... I've worked with my best friends in direct competition.

Here's how you get Hollywood in Positano: You need a nail salon and a yogurt place.

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my soul.

We all fear loneliness, madness, dying. Shakespeare and Walt Whitman, Leopardi and Hart Crane will not cure those fears. And yet these poets bring us fire and light.

Passing my motorcycle theory test gave me a disproportionate feeling of greatness.

It is not so much that you are within the cosmos but that the cosmos is within you.

My television is the tabernacle.

Why don't church leaders forbid Catholics from joining the military with the same fervor they tell Catholics to stay away from abortion clinics?

Not to be provok'd is best: But if mov'd, never correct till the fume is spent; for every stroke our fury strikes, is sure to hit our selves at last.