Never bother to spend any of your attention on a system whose central purpose seems to be in correcting, or combating, another earlier one.
Head melodies are nice enough, but there are tunes available from another region.
Although creations cannot outsmart their artists, man apparently gives himself one ability that his gods do not possess: he can commit suicide. (So tell me, would it make the six o’clock news, or nor, if a Van Gogh watercolor relieved itself of an ear?)
Listen, you guys know I’m not the “pessimistic kind,” but I can still note that Life is “drug out” enough, as it is, without you making it any worse. Know what I mean?
As that one City chap likes to say, “Life is like a race track; the windows all close at three o’clock.” (I haven’t the least idea why he likes to say that, but he does.)