Southern political personalities, like sweet corn, travel badly. They lose flavor with every hundred yards away from the patch. By the time they reach New York, they are like Golden Bantam that has been trucked up from Texas - stale… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
In the light of what Proust wrote with so mild a stimulus, it is the world's loss that he did not have a heartier appetite. On a dozen Gardiner's Island oysters, a bowl of clam chowder, a peck of steamers,… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
It is an anomaly that information, the one thing most necessary to our survival as choosers of our own way, should be a commodity… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
I used to be shy about ordering a steak after I had eaten a steak sandwich, but I got used to it. — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
The pattern of a newspaperman's life is like the plot of 'Black Beauty.' Sometimes he finds a kind master who gives him a dry… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
The science of booby-trapping has taken a good deal of the fun out of following hot on the enemy's heels. — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite. Without this, it is impossible to accumulate, within the allotted span, enough… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
A Louisiana politician can't afford to let his animosities carry him away, and still less his principles, although there is seldom difficulty in that… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
A city with one newspaper, or with a morning and an evening paper under one ownership, is like a man with one eye, and… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
There is a healthy American newspaper tradition of not taking yourself seriously It is the story you must take that way... And if you… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
If a boxer ever went as crazy as Nijinsky all the wowsers in the world would be screaming 'punch-drunk.' Well, who hit Nijinsky? And… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
An Englishman teaching an American about food is like the blind leading the one-eyed. — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
