Quotes About Adventure

You know, I'll tell you honestly: if you like food and you haven't come here to eat, you're really missing the fucking boat. This is world-class food; this is world-class wine; this is world-class cheese. The next big thing is Croatia. If you haven't been here, you're a fucking idiot. I'm an idiot.

And I've long believed that good food, good eating is all about risk.

Linh has informed me of something called 'fox' coffee, ca-phe-chon, a brew made from the tenderest beans, fed to a fox (though I have since seen it referred to as a weasel), and the beans later recovered from the animal's stool, washed (presumably), roasted, and ground. Sounds good to me.

As we continue upriver, we move farther and farther away from the world I know, and toward someone else's. It's thrilling to not know where you're going.

Which is how I found myself in a bathroom full of machine-guns.

A vida de cozinheiro era uma vida de aventura, saque, pilhagem e rock'n'roll sem parar, com um desprezo displicente por toda a moral convencional. A vida do outro lado do muro parecia-me muito boa.

I know what I want. I want it all. I want to try everything once.

I wanted to be apart from everything I grew up with. In short, I wanted to be elsewhere.

1993, my return to the 'bigs'. I'd been

Live the dream for a bit. But keep your eyes open. And be careful. As you'll see, many visitors came to Tangier for a short vacation and remained for life. It's that kind of place.

By this, I mean simply that many times in my life the statistical probabilities of a fatal outcome have been overwhelming thanks to my sins of excess and poor judgment and my inability to say no to anything that sounded as if it might have been fun. By all rights I should have been, at various times: shot to death, stabbed to death, imprisoned for a significant period of time, or at very least, victimized by a casaba-sized tumor.

Sometimes you see the uninviting door and just have to go through it.

There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.

I kept pushing the old noga through the floorboards near, and the Durango 95 ate up the road like spaghetti.

A work of fiction should be, for its author, a journey into the unknown, and the prose should convey the difficulties of the journey.

Everything ends In Mexico Mexico, An excellent place to die. Come some day and try Mexico.

Je m'en vais chercher un grand peut-etre - I go to seek a great perhaps.

We must be cloaked by the stars and wrapped by the moon; we must dine on the winds and rest by the waters. We move on if there's a road, and we stop only when we come to its end.

A year jammed full of adventure and misadventure, strides forward and many steps backward, another year in my topsy-turvy, Jekyll-and-Hyde existence.

I loved that job. I'd drive recklessly, breaking all the laws, speeding and going on the wrong side of the street and cutting around traffic to make my deliveries so I could take my time getting back to the store.

Yeah baby, give me some of that rancid yak milk.

It was, however, in keeping with the way my uncle conducted his life that he should reach his destination without knowing the name of the goal.

Anyway, what can one do here? I am seriously thinking of running away and joining the Foreign Legion or the North-West Mounted Police—whichever work the shorter hours.

Bring a torch, if you've got one. It's as dark as hell and stinks of something far worse than cheese.