It’s been a long time since I’ve had champagne.
~Anton Chekhov, his last words on his deathbed
Ah, Caviar! I keep on eating it, but can never get my fill.
~Anton Chekhov, when asked what his favorite food was
A good upbringing means not that you won’t spill sauce on the tablecloth, but that you won’t notice it when someone else does.
While you’re playing cards with a regular guy or having a bite to eat with him, he seems a peaceable, good-humored and not entirely dense person. But just begin a conversation with him about something inedible, politics or science, for instance, and he ends up in a dead end or starts in on such an obtuse and base philosophy that you can only wave your hand and leave.
Watching a woman make Russian pancakes, you might think that she was calling on the spirits or extracting from the batter the philosopher’s stone.