"Can we really leave for the moon," Jeanne remembered asking Georges, delirious with joy, "oh, Georges, can we really leave?" "Not without leaving a piece of youth," he replied.
You really think this is all going on just within the city limits? These are two whole universes, two entire histories converging on each other, my friend. You think our ghost city isn’t going to catch up with you in America? You want to outrun it, so you say? Well, then, how far to the end of the universe will your plane go? If you don’t like being in two places at once here and now, how do you think you’ll like it for the rest of your life?
They went to the Hagia Sophia first... It was the highlight of the whole trip, and it lasted just over an hour.
“When my mother cooked us pasta for dinner, she spent hours, sometimes the whole day, making sure the sauce and the vegetables or meats were perfect, but never once made her own pasta from scratch, ‘because it took too much time.’ I never understood this about her, until she finally explained it to me one day. ‘It’s the sauce that has to be perfect,’ she said. ‘It’s the pasta’s job to get the sauce to your mouth. In a perfect world the pasta would be perfect too, but it’s not a perfect world, so all the pasta has to do is be not terrible.’ To me, the music is the sauce, and opera is the pasta that gets the sauce to your mouth.”
I'm here to review not just the restaurants, but also the dysfunction, the dystopia. I feel I'm as much a reporter of the end of the world as I am the end-all brunch spots. Had I been so long in the suck of modern apocalypse that I never had an honest-to-goodness good time?
If food is alive, what food does food eat to stay alive? If food is alive, is it still morally acceptable, kosher even, for humans to eat that food? Is a live cookie the whole of the thing, or is it the sum of its live dough and live chocolate chips? Does a cake's life begin from scratch, from the first cracked egg, the first swish of the wooden spoon, or is it somewhere in the oven when the baking powder dances with the flour and rises up to life?
Who cares who’s right or wrong, when the whole city, and maybe even the whole world, had completely collapsed, or whatever, all around them? What ideas are worth fighting for when there’s no world left to enjoy those ideas in? Anyway, Earl had an okay OKCupid date to make.