It would be an egregious mistake to ever refer to me in the same breath as most of the people I write about.

Don't dunk your nigiri in the soy sauce. Don't mix your wasabi in the soy sauce. If the rice is good, complement your sushi chef on the rice.

your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.

I don't like to see animals in pain. That was very uncomfortable to me. I don't like factory farming. I'm not an advocate for the meat industry.

The journey is part of the experience - an expression of the seriousness of one's intent. One doesn't take the A train to Mecca.

Doing graphic novels is cool! It's fun! You get to write something, and then see it visually page by page, panel by panel, working with the artist, you get to see it fleshed out.

I'm never a reliable narrator, unbiased or objective.

Anyone who doesn't have a great time in San Francisco is pretty much dead to me.

Good food is very often, even most often, simple food.

Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans ... are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit.

I'd learned something... Food had power. It could inspire, astonish, shock, excite, delight and impress. It had the power to please me... and others. This was valuable information.

We need a country literally full of cat guys and cat girls, bikers, politicians, clergy, and everyone in between, in order to keep millions from dying without homes.

Though old the thought and oft exprest 'tis his at last who says it best.

Much as we don't condone impunity, if pursuit for justice was in conflict with pursuit for peace, peace must prevail.

There will be those who will tell you that you can't make it because of how you look, because of the way you talk. We all have heard that - I almost listened.

I think that rebellions arise out of anger, and they're very short-lived.

No unemployment insurance can be compared to an alliance between a man and a plot of land.

Any effort that has self-glorification as its final endpoint is bound to end in disaster.

...a young man, Jamaican, perhaps, his head circled in a scarf with sunbleached dreadlocks on piled on top, looking like a plate of soft-shell crabs.

Well, certainly the Voynich Manuscript is the 'limit text' of Western occultism. No one can read it. It is truly an occult book.