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

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

Dinner was made for eating, not for talking.

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.

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’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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

We never repent of having eaten too little.

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

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me when someone denies themselves the pleasure of a bloody hunk of steak or a pungent French cheese because of some outdated nonsense about what’s appropriate or attractive.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 eat next to nothing.

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

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

I’ve never been a feminist.

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

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.

To eat is to appropriate by destruction.

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.