thought for food

We plan, we toil, we suffer-in the hope of what? A camel-load of idol’s eyes?  The title deeds to Radio City?  The Empire of Asia?  A trip to the moon?  No, no, no, no. Simply to wake just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs.  And, again I cry, how rarely it happens!  But when it does happen-then what a moment, what a morning, what a delight?.

J.B. Priestley


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