"In the winter of 2005, I received Thomas Keller’s The French Laundry Cookbook as a Christmas present. It was during my early, struggling-writer years, when I was working as a chef to support my family (and my writing), and I often wondered if I’d ever make it as an author. I remember sitting down on Christmas Day to read Keller’s book in my small apartment in Colorado. I was inspired by his love for cooking, his artistry and creativity, and his deep dedication to his art. The book was an inspiration to me to keep writing and pursuing my dream of publication, and I promised myself that when I published my first book, I would celebrate at one of his restaurants. Ten years later, I signed my contract for Children of the New World with Picador. This past November, I invited my family to Per Se as a thank you for all their love and support throughout my years of writing, and I lifted a glass in thanks to Keller."

"All right, Stanley Kubrick was a genius, the master of the big, ambitious film that stuns the senses, like 2001: A Space Odyssey. But Paths of Glory is one of the last great triumphs of black-and-white filmmaking. It is also a tribute to the talent of Kirk Douglas, who here takes on the role of a French colonel in the trenches of the First World War with such explosive energy that one realizes how many films (and directors) were unworthy of Kirk’s genius as an actor—his first acting role, by the way, was onstage as the servant in Chekhov’s The Three Sisters, with Catherine Cornell, Judith Anderson, and my mother as the sisters and Ruth Gordon as the dreadful sister-in-law. Nobody has ever captured the First World War better on film (except perhaps for Jean Renoir in Grand Illusion, which is in a class by itself). A heartbreaking giant of a film, not a bad shot or a wasted frame in it; perfect filmmaking."

"In a glorious surge of deserved success in 1974, the very comprehensive lyric sheets accompanying Sparks albums prove that Ron Mael is clearly driven to tell, yet he answers the media by skillfil Quietism and by impersonating various walls. Ron Mael is an undoubted genius, and where else would a true genius live but in the catacombs of hell? Ron asks his younger brother Russell to sing the words - in chilling falsetto. Russell sings in what appear to be French italics, and has less facial hair that Josephine Baker. It is a scream, because the songs are screams. (...) Who on earth would write a pop song in such a way? A song about an arts and crafts competition where 'lovely Claudine Jones/has to come to push her quilt', but where Tracy Wise gets a prize. There is no category for this madness - except the category of madness, and Sparks are only let down by their name. At 14, I want to live with these people, to be - at last! - in the company of creatures of my own species"