Michael Pollan Quotes

I will never be an old man. To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am.

Sex is the root of which intuition is the foliage and beauty is the flower.

My idea of Hell is to be young again.

All the year round there is spring, all through life is youth; there is always something which may flower.

A flower's fragrance declares to all the world that it is fertile, available, and desirable, its sex organs oozing with nectar. Its smell reminds us in vestigial ways of fertility, vigor, life-force, all the optimism, expectancy, and passionate bloom of youth. We inhale its ardent aroma and, no matter what our ages, we feel young and nubile in a world aflame with desire.

Why are people born? Why do they die? Why do they want to spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches?

Sex is a very narrow avenue. You only have so many holes and parts, and eventually, you run out of things to do.

Easy for them to keep their youth who will never learn a lesson.

Sex touches the heavens only when it simultaneously touches the gutter and the mud.

Why were we driven out of Paradise? Why did we fall into this gnawing disease of unappeasable dissatisfaction? Not because we sinned. Ah, no. All the animals in Paradise enjoyed the sensual passion of coition. Not because we sinned. But because we got sex into our head.

No one who is young is ever going to be old.

What is life but playing with time?

You're like the devil with horns in your head, the only way I'll get you is to get you in bed.

I want you. Bad. Right now. Against the wall. On my bed. The floor and maybe in the bathroom later. I have a shower stall and a Jacuzzi we could put to really good use. I know you'd like it.

The passion for praise, which is so very vehement in the fair sex, produces excellent effects in women of sense, who desire to be admired for that which only deserves admiration.

No move towards the extinction of the passion between the sexes has taken place in the five or six thousand years that the world has existed.

If sex isn't an important part of your marriage, you can't beef if your wife or husband does this unimportant thing with somebody else every once in a while, if you have no interest in it.

Sex, which ought to be an incident of life, is the obsession of the well-fed world.

A moral character is attached to autumnal scenes; the leaves falling like our years, the flowers fading like our hours, the clouds fleeting like our illusions, the light diminishing like our intelligence, the sun growing colder like our affections, the rivers becoming frozen like our lives--all bear secret relations to our destinies.

Sex and writing live on playful cruelties.

Love and sex can go together and sex and unlove can go together and love and unsex can go together. But personal love and personal sex is bad.

Cultivating whatever gave pleasure to my senses was always the chief business of my life; I have never found any occupation more important. Feeling that I was born for the sex opposite mine, I have always loved it and done all that I could to make myself loved by it. I have also been extravagantly fond of good food and irresistibly drawn by anything which could excite curiosity.