Dialogue.
“The most prominent feature of being a human is: not knowing.”
     “Nay!  --   it is in being able to know that you don't know.”
"Okay  --  as long as you understand why you put the first know in italics."
 

A father advised a son:
“The reason men accept that the idea which says: 'Anyone who tries to help you, wants something from you'  is mere cynicism
is to keep them from realizing its veracity.”
    “A fairly common ploy, huh Pop?!”
“As widespread as dew, my boy.”
 

You know an ill is fatal if someone says they feel the need to “go public” with it --
for that means it’s some form of being asleep & ordinary.
 

You can be assured you are in a standard love affair if your partner encourages or just tolerates you whining as is natural to you.
    (“I don’t need a lesser half --  I AM my lesser half!”)
 

Tattooed on his west buttock, has one man:
“When it comes to life: being disappointed ain’t the half of it.” (On the background of a delicate, red heart.)
 

If people in the city ignore your ideas, begin referring to them as that:
“controversial new theory.”
(Cinderella amounted to nothing ‘til word got out that she slept around,
[same with all the better known gods.])
 

Said a father to a son: “When it comes to the really important questions in life,
men are born to be either: a writer or a reader: a talker or a listener,
but to ever get to the bottom of things requires that you be a nothinger  --
do you dig me?    --    and you better  not reply.”
 

The ruler of one desert kingdom says that all the troubles began only when
the demand for sand exports dried up.
“Ain’t that how it is in all areas,” noted one everyday guy,
who sometimes said things no one was sure they understood  --  but, hey! --
otherwise: what’s the point in knowing such a guy.
 

One man likes to continually check his email Inbox   --  when he is offline  --
just to keep his disappointment level high.
 

Men fight for reasons hormonal; their neural justifications are but
civil window-dressing.  (Stick this whole scenario into your own head.)
 

One man says he is convinced, without question, that life would be supremely better
if only several changes could be implemented:
that all chocolate products be of the purest manufacturing quality possible;
that those doing voice-overs to travelogues must be in the locale they are describing
when they record them, and that the twelve secret families running everything
would stop it.
 

“Pa pa: what is your latest favorite verbal foolishness of humans?”
    “Men criticizing the so called artistic creations other men have made up.”
(“Cripes! --  have you read that new, totally out of fashion novel by Candide!")
 

Those disturbed by the injustices they perceive inflicted on humans by life
are the same ones surprised at how perfectly men and women’s sexual organs
fit together. (Damn! --  almost as though they were made for each other.)
    "Let me be sure I have this straight:
      not that injustice and man were made for each other,
      but man's mind and thoughts of injustice?"
Straightupamundo.
 

Those who harken to the past  --  don’t feel they did well there;
and those who often refer to their self  --  don’t feel they’ve done well there either.
Quality and substantiality speaks for itself
(which accounts for dirt’s widespread silence.
“And also the enlightened man's, huh?!”
     “Who?”)
 

One guy says:
“My motto is: 'Being ill  prepared is no reason not to be prepared,’”
and offers himself as an example.
   “Of what, precisely?”
“My name is not precisely.”
Moral: Being alive is being prepared.
   “If you understand it  (you probably mean)?!”
Probably.
 

Those who say they are: torn-between-two-lives -- are missing something.
(Hint: There are no ophthalmologists on the sun.)
 

How Life (Via Words) May Be Working When Men Are Not Paying Close Attention.
A race car driver began referring to trips to the bathroom at home as:
making a pit stop, which, because of his behavioral dyslexia,
made for some interesting times at the track.
 

The normally running mind is made to measure  --  not to think.
 

What is stupid is not (for instance) some group believing that the dead benefit by
being buried on a sacred mountain, but rather outsiders treating it seriously.
 

Men enjoy the mysteries they have contrived within their religious conceits  --
not having access to the real one.
 

Noted a father to a son:
“What happens in your head is weird and interesting,
but what goes on in your chest is even more so.”
    “Then why do you talk almost exclusively about the head stuff?”
“It is the source of talk and would thus seem to be most able to speak of itself.”
    “Is the word: ‘seem’  here of extreme importance?”
“As always: for even if colored dye is poured in a river downstream,
within it still exists the original water.”
 

The broadcast that each person receives in their mind seems generally to be
an all request station, but men cannot decide whether or not they are the DJ.
 

Says one author: “The best thing about writing fiction is that you have an acceptable excuse for the characters floating in your head, being out of control.”
("Yeah, I may be the titular Zeus in there, but I'm telling you:
those lesser gods have minds of their own!  Jeeze!”)
 

Offers one dude this encouragement:
“Scale and size does matter: consider the difference in an elephant being shot
in the head with a BB, and a flea taking a .357 shell.
(Remember that next time you’re trying to fit a king size idea into your valise).”
 

One guy wonders if this might not be the ultimate question:
"If you found out you were dying  --  would you keep going to the gym?"
(He adds that the extended allegorical use of this is too salient to be noted.)
 

Some ordinary people will say that past a certain point: “all you can do is laugh,”
but they mean past a certain point of the catastrophes in your life,
all you can do is laugh,
while the certain man knows of another non negative place past which
there is nothing left to do but laugh  --  ‘cause there literally IS nothing else there.
 

Conversation.
“I feel under great pressure.”
    “To do what?”
“I’m not sure.”
    “That must create great stress.”
“Yeah......but it does give me something to talk about.”
    “Neat.”
 

One man says: “To me, the biggest question is: If men couldn’t talk about their lives  --  could they bear them?”