To safeguard one’s health at the cost of too strict a diet is a tiresome illness indeed.

’Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.

I cannot but bless the memory of Julius Caesar, for the great esteem he expressed for fat men and his aversion to lean ones.

‘Tis a superstition to insist on a special diet. All is made at last of the same chemical atoms.

When the stomach is full, it is easy to talk of fasting.

A woman should never be seen eating or drinking unless it be lobster salad and champagne, the only truly feminine and becoming viands.

Whatsoever was the father of a disease, an ill diet was the mother.

He makes his cook his merit, and the world visits his dinners and not him.

No lyric poems live long or please many people which are written by drinkers of water.

Is it only the mouth and belly which are injured by hunger and thirst? Men’s minds are also injured by them.

What is food to one is to others bitter poison.

To eat is to appropriate by destruction.

At a dinner party one should eat wisely but not too well, and talk well but not too wisely.