The way to be sure that your personal understanding of things remains of the quality of ox farts is that you still believe other men would be better off if they had it. (“Why you poor thing you.”)
A man who knows what is going on is his own hero;
a man who knows what is going on has no hero.
The dirty little secret, (of no interest to most), is that anyone can be more clearly conscious at this very instant, merely by trying to be. (Don’t ever let on that you know this, for doing so at the wrong moment can prove extremely mortifying!)
One man likes to hear what other people are thinking; he says it cuts down on him having to do so.
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(“Honey, call that other reality and tell them I’m gonna be late.”)
J.