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You can call your turkey organic and torture it daily.

Jonathan Safran Foer

The French, who love their dogs, sometimes eat their horses. The Spanish, who love their horses, sometimes eat their cows. The Indians, who love their cows, sometimes eat their dogs.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Animal Irony Time
As long as I am thinking, I am alive.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Alive Myself Thinking
We believed in our grandmother’s cooking more fervently than we believed in God.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Believe Cook God
I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Day Experience Hope Love Understand Willing Yourself
With writing, we have second chances.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Chance Opportunity Writing
I don’t think that there are any limits to how excellent we could make life seem.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Excellence Life Limitation Thinking
Everything that’s born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they’re all on fire, and we’re all trapped.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Born Death Fire Live Ourselves Rise Smoking
Just to be a functioning adult in the world, we develop all of these layers of protection. When we see homeless people, we don’t cry, even though homeless people probably deserve our tears – you know, it’s a horrible thing.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Adult Cry Deserve Development Function Home Ourselves People World
Silently the animal catches our glance. The animal looks at us, and whether we look away or not, we are exposed. Whether we change our lives or do nothing, we have responded. To do nothing is to do something.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Animal Change Expose Live Respond Silence
Every night before putting her to sleep, Yankel counts her ribs, as if one might have disappeared in the course of the day and become the seed and soil for some new companion to steal her away from him.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Appearance Himself Night Sleep Steal
I want an infinitely blank book and the rest of time.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Blank Book Infinite Myself Time
Feathers filled the small room. Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly is there wasn’t someone, somewhere, laughing?
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Laughter Myself Room Small
She wanted more, more slang, more figures of speech, the bee’s knees, the cats pajamas, horse of a different color, dog-tired, she wanted to talk like she was born here, like she never came from anywhere else
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Animal Born Color Different Herself
Food for her is not food, it is terror, dignity, gratitude, vengeance, joyfulness, humiliation, religion, history, and, of course, love. As if the fruit she always offered us were picked from the destroyed brances of out family tree.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Family Food Herself Offering Terror Tree
Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean].
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Enough Expression One Liner Sadness Word
The meaning of my thoughts started to float away from me, like leaves that fall from a tree into a river, I was the tree, the world was the river.
JONATHAN SAFRAN FOER

Leave Meaning Myself River Start Thinking Tree

You can call your turkey organic and torture it daily.

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You can call your turkey organic and torture it daily.

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