The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall.

You understand Teacher, don’t you, that when you have a mother who’s an angel and a father who is a cannibal king, and when you have sailed on the ocean all your whole life, then you don’t know just how to behave in school with all the apples and ibexes.

I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths.

I have my mother’s hips…I have an apple bottom.

In the old days, if a neighbors apples fell into your yard, you worked it out over the back fence or picked them up and made pies. Today, you sue.

When I was a little kid, my mother and I used to watch the Golden Globes and I would dress up and she would get sparkling apple cider and we would make a tray of hors doeuvres and watch it together. And I would get up and make a pretend speech.