A Way Out

No information is particularly useful unless it has an escape clause.  (Add this:  Okay, you can also try it this way:  Not even “the truth” is beneficial unless it has a way out.)



The infantile eye says, “Fate ruled my parents; chance, me.”



Those who still claim to be seriously worried over “man’s attempt to play god,” sure don’t have much to worry about.



The mythology of this one group, (no longer as extant as they once were), tells that even though Life’s primary business is change, that the constant disruptions inherent in such pursuits were resulting in inordinate stress, migraines, and the threat of ulcers…but Life found a way out, it made man and turned the job over to him.



In the ordinary conditions of the City:  Don’t pity the poor, for if you think you’re not one of them, you’re both poor and stupid.



The older planet told his satellite son, “Whenever you wonder whether a beckoning activity is truly essential or not for you personally, the way to always tell is that only the non-essential comes with instructions.”