You can’t really call Man intelligent until he discovers for Himself that even the most simplistic forms of talk are necessary energy conversions.
One City bohemian confided to his coffee house crowd that he only sought to produce art that would fall into a position securely between grandiose and rubbish.
Part of Mans’ job is to make things animate…only Man can turn iron into an engine.
A Man who can tell time
doesn’t need a watch.
Overheard from one would-be City thinker, pondering on the general nature of life, who declared in sweat drenched tones, “I am more and more inclined to believe that there may be only one game in town”…Don’t know how it may affect him to realize that there may be only one town.