Quotes
Thought: Why does man kill? He kills for food. And not only food: frequently there must be a beverage.
What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists? In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet.
If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name in a Swiss bank.
He had been mistaken several times for Robert Redford, but on each occasion it was by a blind person.
For Children: You will need to know the difference between Friday and a fried egg. It's quite a simple difference, but an important one. Friday comes at the end of the week, whereas a fried egg comes out of a chicken. Like most things, of course, it isn't quite that simple. The fried egg isn't properly a fried egg until it's been put in a frying pan and fried. This is something you wouldn't do to a Friday, of course, though you might do it on a Friday. You can also fry eggs on a Thursday, if you like, or on a cooker. It's all rather complicated, but it makes a kind of sense if you think about it for a while.
Today I saw a red-and-yellow sunset and thought, "How insignificant I am!" Of course, I thought that yesterday, too, and it rained. I was overcome with self-loathing and contemplated suicide again - this time by inhaling next to an insurance salesman.
What a wonderful thing, to be conscious! I wonder what the people in New Jersey do.
V. attacked his first woman at eighteen, and thereafter raped half a dozen per week for years. The best I was able to do with him in therapy was to substitute a more socially acceptable habit to replace his aggressive tendencies; and thereafter when he chanced upon an unsuspecting female, instead of assaulting her, he would produce a large halibut from his jacket and show it to her. While the sight of it caused consternation in some, the women were spared any violence and some even confessed their lives were immeasurably enriched by the experience.
"Solutions nearly always come from the direction you least expect, which means there's no point trying to look in that direction because it won't be coming from there."
What if nothing exists and we're all in somebody's dream? Or what's worse, what if only that fat guy in the third row exists?
Once a lumberjack was about to chop down a tree, when he noticed a heart carved on it, with two names inside. Putting away his axe, he sawed down the tree instead. The point of that story escapes me, although six months later the lumberjack was fined for teaching a dwarf Roman numerals.
I don't believe in an afterlife, although I am bringing a change of underwear.
