Everybody is a prime example.

Advice For City Life.
When in doubt: align yourself with an established institution.
(And if this doesn’t work: write your memoirs.)

Everybody has an excuse.

Those not adequately enamored by the idea that men gain greater understanding
after death can always presently avail themselves of drugs, distractions,
and even deeper immersion in followerism.
For most: not ever going anywhere is compensated for by being in a group of others
of the like with a leader who berates them for their status.

Everybody fears they will be recalled.

The ill-will of a rebel should be confined to acts of murder.
(Half-ways of anything are the cause of the certain man's sleeping sickness.)

Everybody has a bomb strapped to them.

One man will only speak to himself through a curtain.
“Who’s backing you in this enterprise, Hodgkins?”
     “I can’t tell you.”
“Literally?  --  you can’t tell me?”
      “Literally.”
“Most curious.”
      “Only if you have never looked into the matter.”
“Humm, that is curious also, the fact that I never have.”

Everybody has their own talk show.

One guy thought: “I hate it when I suddenly feel really good and don’t know why!”
He later realized that such was always the case.

Everybody thinks that some things don’t make sense.

Life has a-little-something-for-everybody (though a few find it too little).

Everybody believes they will weasel out.

Conversation.
“In one land: the more you understand something the less you say about it.”
    “How close is this place.”
“Not close at all for most folks.”

Everybody thinks they were born under a bad sign.

Tip Of The Day.
If you are going to be interviewed it’s best to follow someone else being so,
so that you can refer to and agree with what they said to help fill up your allotted time.

Everybody harbors WSD's: weapons of some destruction.

Just as football is stock car racing without the track
so is mysticism religion without the standard bullshit.
(“Yes,  that is certainly what is needed  --  some additional, though unconventional horsedoodle  --    yes indeedie.”)

Everybody needs a credit counselor.

Those with nothing better to do love to speak of their:
“pursuit of the spiritual side of life.”

Everybody has dodged several bullets.

A Certain Conversation Revisited.
“In one land: the more you understand something the less you say about it.”
     “Does that include the more that listeners understand,
       the less they want to hear?”
"Yes, it would  --  except......”
     “Except what?”
“Except that it hardly ever happens.”

Everybody talks funny.

A man whose mind can be upset can be imprisoned and kept there forever
with no additional effort.

Everybody feels exploited.      (Okay, they are  --   happy now!)

True lovers of fun and freedom don’t even bother looking around for prison bars.

Everybody would take the easy way out.

If you ever find a group who, instead of following/worshiping a god thing,
focuses their attention on a god process,
you might want to look deeper into their activities
in that their outward one might be a ruse.

Everybody wants what they were promised  --  and then some.

Those attached to nouns never catch on.

Everybody feels that within them  --  struggling to get out  --
is an obese, alcoholic, abusive drug addict.

As he lay dying in his library, with his final gasp, one man said:
“As I look back over my life,”
(he paused for a moment and looked back over his life, and his books),
”I have one major regret: that I never fully appreciated silverfish.”

Everybody believes they have a submerged Atlantis in them.

The consummate model of a monopoly is the ordinary mind’s concept of knowledge.
Hardly anyone ever recognizes who they are exploited by.

Everyone’s payoff is in the pipeline  --  it’s simply a matter of waiting it out.

The better the memory: the worse the memory.

Everybody has at least one comeback in ‘em.

The better the memory; the less fresh understanding.

Everybody has walked on the moon  --  traveled in space.

Fact.
For the normal: intellectually speaking: the collective is your friend.
True.
If this applies to you: you have no actual intellectual friends.

Everybody has feelings that seem out of whack with their thoughts.

The battle continues: between the barbarians and the civilized;
between the philistines and the talented;
between the crude and the educated,
between yesterday and today:  the battle continues  --    but who gives a damn.

Everybody has been in a time machine.

Cows don’t like to be talked about  (not by non cows that is).

Everybody knows what is going on, but no one wants to admit it.

Sheep don’t like to be discussed  --  oh! --  they don’t mind it if it is concerning their good looks  --  but nothing else!

Everybody knows what is going on, but no one wants others to know they do.

The grand voice of mortal wisdom cried out across the cosmos:
“Life is a book, and man still awaits a competent translation thereof,”
and one little planet mused: “That sounds quite profound,
unless you realize that man is the author of: life-as-a-book.”

All that is not physics or chemistry is narrative,
and to ordinary minds all narrative is either fiction or non fiction,
but to the real deal man: narrative is narrative.