"Okay," says one man, "no matter what you’d prefer, there's only this choice:
there is either a supernatural being, or else some human conspiracy running things --  ‘cause we sure ain’t!   Just look at us! -- me and you sure the hell ain’t.”
 

A politician noted: “The most grueling part of this job is having to
seriously pretend that you understand what you’re talking about.”
    “Tell me about it,” moaned a priest.
 

One day out of the blue a realization came upon a man:
“My thoughts are not responsible for themselves  --  (more specifically):
my consciousness consists entirely of the state of my consciousness:
an insight -- as simple as it sounds," he says,
"which nevertheless changed everything for me."
 

For a long time, the idea that one man found most disturbing was:
“There are forces working against us”  --   then something happened  --
now he finds it the most humorous.
 

Ordinary men have an explanation for everything they say they think --
which in large part is what keeps them ordinary.
 

One man’s consciousness to him mused:
“Everyone wants something from you but me”  --  with which he couldn’t disagree.
    (“Point of order!  --   how can you be absolutely sure that's so?!”
SIR!  --  would your own consciousness lie to you?!)
 

When the tyrant wants to keep the people from looking at his feet
he directs their attention to matters far away.
    “You mean to matters that don’t matter?!”
and as always: the conversation returns to the mind.
 

The idea of awakening does to the certain man’s consciousness
what the sight of a woman’s body does to an ordinary man’s.
 

A father said to a son: “A man who explains the purpose of his art
as anything other than the attempt to get attention is lying  --
precisely to whom though seems open to question."
 

Save the cost of consulting a medium: if you’re of ordinary consciousness
you are already conversing with the dead.
 

If the only way you can come up with a plan is by studying the ideas of others
you belong in City Planning.
 

A father posed to a son:
“If ordinary people worry about falling apart physically,
the certain man worries about what?”
 

No matter his appearance --  the man-who-knows is always in style.
    “But in what quarters?”  asks some ordinary city slicker.
 

Your body and mind are the universe -- and if you don’t understand that,
you live in a small confined part.
 

One guy yelled at his cells: “Hey! --  don’t stress me out!”
and they thought: “What’d we do!?”
 

Ordinary consciousness is not smart enough to ever realize that it is not as smart as
it is made to say it is.
 

When it comes to employing the ideas of others, one man’s attitude is:
“Why use a helicopter when a submarine will do.”
 

It requires a stretch limo to take ordinary people where a skateboard will
the certain man.
    (“Guess that’s about the long and short of it, huh?!”  added a rebel trader.)
 

One man says: “The best thing about being of ordinary consciousness
is that you can get excited about anything you hear of.”
He then waited..................................apparently for you to agree with him.
 

One guy’s private watchword is: “It's either from your brain -- or out of the drain.
    What a personal, personal matter this be,
    trying to set your consciousness free.”
No one knows how to release unicorns from captivity  --
unicorns must discover it for themselves.
 

How To Get By In There.
To make someone in the city believe that they’re-the-man, what you do is tell them:
“You da man!”
 

Men appear to be three dimensional, living in a four dimensional realm,
but part of them is two -- only dreaming it is three;
a few men can make it stop --
which does something extraordinary to IT.
 

After many years of drinking beers, and trying to have life transforming thoughts,
one man mused:
“If I could swell my consciousness up like I can my bladder,
I’d feel like I was making some progress.”
One man would urge on certain of his cells: “Come on guys  --  you can do it!” (Although he hoped that all of them would adopt this attitude.)