“I couldn't will my beloved Berlin streets across the world or make the people I loved appear when I needed them, but by summoning the flavors of Berlin and the foods of my loved ones, my kitchen became my sanctuary, the stove my anchor.Distance means nothing when your kitchen smells like home.”

“Tension fled from me. Tomorrow I would worry about Hugh d’Ambray and Andrea andRoland, but now I was simply happy. Aaahh. Home. My place, my smells, my familiar rug under my feet, my kitchen, my Curran in the kitchen chair . . . Wait a damn minute.“You!”

“Feel so fucking angry; don't want to be reminded of you, But when I left my shit in your kitchen, I said goodbye to your bedroom it smelled of you”

“Like most people who love to cook, I like the tangible things...but what I like even more are the intangible things: the familiar voices that fall out of the folds of an old cookbook, or the scenes that replay like a film reel across my kitchen wall. When we fall in love with a certain dish, I think that's what we're often responding to: that something else behind the fork or the spoon, the familiar story that food tells.”

“Because she stepped into my world, I began to savor everything, be it a glass of water or a walk in the park. I was positively in-love with her, because she was the greatest positive force in my life. People tried to tell me that I was not in-love with her, and that I only thought that I was. However, reality is almost always wrong, and no one sees the world the way that I do. No one sees her the way that I do. She is the one that puts flavor into my water, and makes an average walk in the park absolutely divine. In my world, in my reality, she is the one that I choose to be in-love with.”

“When I went back into the kitchen, I wanted to sit on my mum's lap. I know that sounds stupid and babyish , but I couldn't help it. On my sixteenth birthday, I didn't want to be sixteen, or fifteen or anyteen. I wanted to be three or four, and too young to make any kind of mess”