I have been told my eating habits are absolutely bizarre. But I don’t think so.

When they speak, dead frogs fall out of their mouths.

Someone once threw me a small, brown, hairy kiwi fruit, and I threw a wastebasket over it until it was dead.

People like me were supposed to be into exclusivity, unapproachable. That’s what I hate most. I think it’s very demode.

I eat next to nothing.

People assume that the meaning of a song is vested in the lyrics. To me, that has never been the case. There are very few songs that I can think of where I remember the words.

I’ve never been a feminist.

To eat is to appropriate by destruction.

We have food all around us all the time, and if we haven’t eaten for three hours, we think we’re starving. You’re not starving – human beings can go for 30 days without food.

I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.

We never repent of having eaten too little.

There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.

When you’re a chef, you graze. You never get a chance to sit down and eat. They don’t actually sit down and eat before you cook. So when I finish work, the first thing I’ll do, and especially when I’m in New York, I’ll go for a run. And I’ll run 10 or 15k on my – and I run to gain my appetite.

You can tell alot about a fellow’s character by his way of eating jellybeans.

I have always regarded myself, in the first place, as an African patriot.

I’m very type-A, and many things in my life are about control and domination, but eating should be a submissive experience, where you let down your guard and enjoy the ride.

Dinner was made for eating, not for talking.

I don’t have much patience for people who are self-conscious about the act of eating, and it irritates me when someone denies themselves the pleasure of a bloody hunk of steak or a pungent French cheese because of some outdated nonsense about what’s appropriate or attractive.

I can eat two large pizzas and a tray of brownies in one sitting. I’m not sharing that. We can get another one, but I ain’t sharing.

I think about food literally all day every day. It’s a thing.

Statistics show that of those who contract the habit of eating, very few survive.

Man seems to be the only animal whose food soils him, making necessary much washing and shield-like bibs and napkins. Moles living in the earth and eating slimy worms are yet as clean as seals or fishes, whose lives are one perpetual wash.

Science and mindfulness complement each other in helping people to eat well and maintain their health and well-being.

In general, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eats twice as much as nature requires.

Maybe there is no actual place called hell. Maybe hell is just having to listen to our grandparents breathe through their noses when they’re eating sandwiches.