I want Americans to enjoy food. I want them to celebrate food. I want them to, on occasions, to have big cakes and great things. And I want them to indulge.

Real food doesn't have ingredients, real food is ingredients.

I profoundly believe that the power of food has a primal place in our homes that binds us to the best bits of life.

Sugar is the next tobacco, without a doubt, and that industry should be scared. It should be taxed just like tobacco and anything else that can, frankly, destroy lives.

Homicide is 0.8% of deaths. Diet-related disease is over 60%. But no one talks about it.

Food is one of life's greatest joys yet we've reached this really sad point where we're turning food into the enemy, and something to be afraid of

I wish for everyone to help create a strong, sustainable movement to educate every child about food, inspire families to cook again and empower people everywhere to fight obesity.

The whole idea is to earn the flavor. No one gives it to you.

When you are trying to move mountains you want-and need-people on your side who want to move them with you.

Every child should be taught to cook in school, not just talk about nutrition all day. Good food can be made in 15 minutes. This could be the first generation where the kids teach the parents.

Many kids can tell you about drugs but do not know what celery or courgettes taste like.

I might be broke but I am not Broken

A ray of light made a rainbow through the mist. [His] words had given her a small glimmer of hope — the kind of hope she thought had disappeared from her life forever.

The nearer a man lives to God, the more intensely has he to mourn over his own evil heart." -Charles Spurgeon

Inspiration arrives as a packet of material to be delivered.

If two wrongs don't make a right, try three.

My filmmaking really began with technology. It began through technology, not through telling stories, because my 8mm movie camera was the way into whatever I decided to do.

The majority is always wrong; the minority is rarely right.

You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.