(Reminder that all the stories reported here occurred in a man's head.)
 

Conversation.
“Men whine when they talk.”
    “About what?”
“Anything other than physics and chemistry.”
    “How about the subject of: waking-up?”
“So what do you think it is?!”
 

When one man unexpectedly handed out large financial gifts to friends and family, many of them immediately believed this was a farewell act:
a silent signaling that he was dying, and when he heard about this the man wondered:
“Why did they never think such when throughout my life I freely gave to them of my advice and insight?” and they replied: “Because your money is worth something.”
“Oh,” he thought  --  and then did die  (or at least, demise-ified).
 

“Figuratively speaking: it seems a shame,” notes one chap,
“that when men offer passionate, positive descriptions of god’s attributes
they can’t realize they are describing the potential of their own mind.”
 

One man has this personal view of things:
“You can think better: it’s not necessary  --  but it is possible;
thinking can be fun: it’s not required  -- but it sure is possible  -- AND fun.”
 

One famously (or perhaps that should be: facetiously?!) intelligent man has this to say:
“If there are those who find you a living example --  I’d hate to see them
(as should you).”
 

Here’s the thing: if words about awakening sound as ordinary to you as the ones you normally hear, they cannot help you in an effort to achieve that goal --  but --
if they are so bizarre that they make no sense to you,
they will also be of no assistance  --  so:
it ultimately comes down to you composing the song-of-awakening that is right for,
and singable by you.
 

One man says he has come to picture the efforts to shake loose of ordinary consciousness as trying to walk uphill backwards and blindfolded --
but with a secret motor in your shoes.
 

Anyone who tries to think about things in a way he has never heard of before
is already an artist.
 

On one planet they say if you are satisfied to simply be famous
then you’re content to be looked up to by pigmies.
 

After shifting much of his inner operations out of the city, one fellow now often mentions to himself: “No metaphors for me, thanks  --  I’m driving.”
 

One man has a tattoo running up his left leg, starting from the ankle:
“Think Or Die! …okay: Grow Or Die! –  Move Or Die!  --  Change Or Die  --
Do SOMETHING Or Die!”
 

Neither the past nor the future is large enough (nor suitable) to contain the moment.
 

Man’s normal state of consciousness (nee: being asleep) is:
Engaging in a sport called: "Hey!  --  this is me  --  according to me,"
with no investigation of how this deciding "me"  got here.
 

Noted a chap to his siamese twin: “Being more awake then we used to be
has made me as happy as a woodpecker with a peg leg.”
 
 

A Fresh Examination Of The Obvious.

Being Ordinary Never Occurred To Me.

The Vertical Escape.

Improved Reception.

Insight Sans Souci.

Yay! --  We Did It!

The Freedom Bandits.

The Purposeful Making Up Of Stuff.

The Nosey Patrol.

Plurality Of Thought: Singularity Of Purpose.

The Intricate Revolution.

The Thinking-Is-Fun Gang.

Telescopes For Inverted Thoughts: Micros For The Otherwise.

The Gravity Clinic.

Additional Date Inc.

Life On Earth: An Aerial View.

The Bureau Of Missing Ideas.

Everyone Knows More Than They Know.

Unauthorized Entertainment.

The Antidote For Uncertainty.

The Only Army Who Knows The True Opposition.

Secret Solar Expeditions.

The Ultimate Conspiracy (Okay): The Congenial One.

We Alone Don’t Smell A Rat.

The Living Autopsy.

Loose Messages For The Too Tightly Wrapped.

How To Understand Things Without Comparing Them.

Routine Approaches Were Never An Option.

911 For The Mind.

Some Have No Choice  --  And Know It!
 
 

When it comes to his treatment of other people (at least those living their inner life as per
the consciousness common to man) one guy is guided by this personal code of his own west:
“Never shoot a man who's just taken a laxative.”