By Laurie Lee
One of the major pleasures in life is appetite, and one of our major duties should be to preserve it.
Appetite is the keenness of living; it is one of the senses that tell you that you are still curious to exist, that you still have an edge on your longings and want to bite into the world and taste its multitudinous flavors and juices.
By appetite, of course, I don’t mean just the lust for food, but any condition of unsatisfied desire, any burning in the blood that proves you want more than you’ve got, and that you haven’t yet used up your life.
Wilde said he felt sorry for those who never got their heart’s desire, but sorrier still for those who did.
Appetite, to me, is this state of wanting, which keeps one’s expectations alive.
In wanting a peach, or a whisky, or a particular texture or sound, or to be with a particular friend.