The fear that permeated every fiber of my being was relentless, it was cruel, and it was my best hope for getting through this.

Generals were early to bed, early to rise, always brushing their teeth after every meal, never skipping a morning shave. All they had to do was sit back in Nagano drawing up their battle plans....

Of course, there were only three kinds of battle to begin with: fucked up, seriously fucked up, and fucked up beyond all recognition

Food is like war. You have to experience it for yourself.

There is what we desire to do, and what we are able to do. When those two things don’t coincide, which path should we pursue to find happiness?