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There's a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk.

M. F. K. Fisher

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M. F. K. Fisher
Age: 83 †
Born: 1908
Born: July 3
Died: 1992
Died: June 22
Author
Diarist
Memoirist
Screenwriter
Writer
Albion
Michigan
M.F.K. Fisher
Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher
Drunk
Bodies
Bread
Wine
Broken
Food
Body
Communion

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I was horribly self-conscious I wanted everybody to look at me and think me the most fascinating creature in the world, and yet I died a small hideous death if I saw even one person throw a casual glance at me.
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I like old people when they have aged well.
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When shall we live if not now?
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If time, so fleeting, must like humans die, let it be filled with good food and good talk, and then embalmed in the perfumes of conviviality.
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death ... so seldom happens nowadays in the awesome quiet of a familiar chamber. Most of us die violently, thanks to the advance of science and warfare. If by chance we are meant to end life in our beds, we are whisked like pox victims to the nearest hospital, where we are kept as alone and unaware as possible of the approach of disintegration.
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old age is more bearable if it can be helped by an early acceptance of being loved and of loving.
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But if I must be alone, I refuse to be alone as if it were something weak and distasteful, like convalescence.
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I honestly believe that everything I know about the writing of non-fiction (or writing) could be engraved on the head of a pin with a garden hoe.
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I live with carpe diem engraved on my heart.
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There is a communication of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine is drunk. And that is my answer when people ask me: Why do you write about hunger, and not wars or love.
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Good wine, well drunk, can lend majesty to the human spirit.
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I can no more think of my own life without thinking of wine and wines and where they grew for me and why I drank them when I did and why I picked the grapes and where I opened the oldest procurable bottles, and all that, than I can remember living before I breathed.
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... living out of sight of any shore does rich and powerfully strange things to humans.
M. F. K. Fisher
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It is impossible to think of any good meal, no matter how plain or elegant, without soup or bread in it
M. F. K. Fisher
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In general, I think, human beings are happiest at table when they are very young, very much in love or very alone.
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. . . gastronomical perfection can be reached in these combinations: one person dining alone, usually upon a couch or a hill side two people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good restaurant six people . . . dining in a good home.
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Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.
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When a man is small, he loves and hates food with a ferocity which soon dims. At six years old his very bowels will heave when such a dish as creamed carrots or cold tapioca appear before him.
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It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others.
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... there can be no more shameless carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself.
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