I don't like conflict.

Then again, they're not scripted and I feel it's virtually impossible to be anything but yourself when you're in front of the cameras and cooking so there is a measure of truth in what you see.

I was a quiet teenager, introverted, full of angst.

There is a vast difference between how things seem from the outside and how they feel on the inside.

The tortures of present death disturb him not, but the recollection of his fall, fills him with a holy sorrow.

I'm working myself to death.

Perhaps grief is not about empty, but full. The full breath of life that includes death. The completeness, the cycles, the depth, the richness, the process, the continuity and the treasure of the moment that is gone the second you are aware of it.

When we are dealing with death we are constantly being dragged down by the event: Humor diverts our attention and lifts our sagging spirits.