“Books allow you to take flight, unlike the chicken wings I stapled to my back before eating them.”

“The merrel also knew its wing had not healed. But I could reach a great height once more before it failed me, it said. And from there I would fold my wings and plummet to the earth as if a hare or a fawn had caught my eye; but it would be myself I stooped toward. It would be a good flight and a good death. And so I eat their dead things cut up on a pole, dreaming of my last flight.”

“I was an "Omnivore." Like a lot of people, I didn't know any better. Then I read a couple of books. One of them was called How Chickens Are Raped Before You Eat Them. Another was called Hotdogs and Fingertips. I also read The Cow Feces Dilemma as well as Barf, STDs and Veal.”

“There are certain books that I mean to read and keep stacked by my bedside. I even take them on trips. Some of my books should be awarded their own frequent-flier miles, they've traveled so much. I take these volumes on flight after flight with the best of intentions and then end up reading anything and everything else. (Sky Mall! Golf Digest!)”

“On the flight back from Korea, somewhere between the silicone implant chicken and the latest Jennifer Lopez shitefest, I try to make sense of my Korean experience.”

“Chickens are annoying. Is that why people eat them? My sister is annoying, but nobody eats her.”