There is one bit of knowledge which men by nature are unable to grasp:
that all knowledge about things intangible is not knowledge but invention.
(P.S. This minor omission is what makes the life of man unique.
[Aka: The only reason dodos can fly is that they believe they can.])
 

The Silk Of The Captives' Ride.
Even men who understand nothing always have statistics and the well placed quote
to lean on.
 

One man carries a guy around with him who privately explains what is going on to him.
 

One man’s mental standards are so high that he won’t talk to himself.
(The headline to this story should be: “How Things OUGHT To Be.”)
 

One man finally landed the job he wanted: figuring out what his job is.
 

When it heard an animal lauded as being: “tough and flexible,”
one man’s mind joined in and puffed out its chest.
 

Those whose individual sense of identity is based on one held by other men collectively (family, religion, nationality et al)
have in fact, no true sense of individual identity.
Normal sheep are quite content to be known as: part-of-that-particular-flock;
the real-deal-man is not satisfied to be known as anything,
which he sees personally as a substitute for being something.
 

One man explained his inability to urinate without assistance as due to an
abdominal rupture he suffered and his doctor’s instructions not to lift anything heavy;
(taking a clue: another chap upon hearing this announced that his intellectual dependence on others was caused in his instance by a case of brain-strain.)
The mind can, with no effort at all, find in man’s intangible world explanations for everything, and which seem to correlate to substantial ones in the physical realm.
    Neat how it works out.        “And damn efficient too!"
Two safe bets in every race: one on a real horse,
and one on a mount you wish was real.
 

Premise: A sick man is in no hurry  --
now consider that sick means more than ill,
and man represents no less than consciousness;
now re think the premise.
 

A P.R. Tip For Prison Personalities.
If you are posing for publicity photos and you are a nitwit  --  look really  serious.
    “That’ll get you by in almost any situation concerning man’s mental-only reality,
      huh pop?!”
“Si --  and doesn’t that one fact alone tell you everything you need to know about
the routine inner life of man.”
 

One man likes to leave the lights on in his house when he is not there so (as he puts it): “The house won’t feel lonesome.”
(And don’t any of you readers with Doctor’s degrees in Metaphors
try to make more of this than is there.)
    “But pa pa: isn’t making more of something intangible than is there
      the whole purpose of thought?”
“Oui --  but who realizes it?”
    “You mean outside of our house?!”
“Not distinguishing fact from fiction; dirt from dreams,
is what makes man man and puts him atop the life heap on this planet.”
    “And gives our bloodline something interesting to do in lieu of staring at
      normal men’s mindless cultural entertainments, huh?!”
 

One man told his mind:
“If you can’t be original  --  keep quiet,” and it replied:
    “Don’t tell me  --  tell your tongue.”
(Poli Sci majors [and diminisheds] might care to note that such internal conflicts commonly cause the downfall of kingdoms, especially when they are located in
the volatile multicultural region north of your neck.)
 

One observer of man’s incorporeal activities says he has come to find them: “Cute  --  irritating and pretentious, but cute.”
(Which seemed to have stirred his twin brother into commenting:
“Don’t get all of your eggs from just one chicken  --
unless it is a HUMONGOUS chicken!”
[Let’s move quickly on: there’s obviously no useful symbolism here.])

        You sure can’t sail on a lollipop ship,
        unless it’s on a golden fleece sea.
Men who insist on trying to tell other men: “What is impossible,” do them no benefit.
       (“You are speaking of ordinary men, correct?!”)
 

One chap’s present peer into the psychological depths of Homo sapiens he limns thus:
“The ever shifting interplay within man of contrasting attitudes & conflicting emotions is like an elaborate set of elephant furniture.”
 

(Now an even stranger story.)
There is a man whose opinion of himself is no better and no worse than
his opinion of others.
    (“Hey!  -- strange is one thing  -- totally-unbelievable issomething else!”)
 

More Clichés Steam-Cleaned And Hung Out To Stretch-Dry.
    What goes around
    doesn’t come around
    ‘less you let it get
    you down first time ‘round.
To wit: El Exemplior!
Men make themselves feel good by pushing inanimate objects around:
mountains do by men.
The nervous system is a terrible thing to waste
on the audible output that comes with it.
(One man thinks of the effort to enlarge his consciousness as:
“The Great After-Market Escapade.”)
 

One of the trickier features of undertaking the Grand Quest is that
no outside voice calls you to do it, nor offers anything of ultimate assistance.
    “Perceptive Pater: is that why drugstore knights remain on their stools?”
Pre-Eminent Prescription.
Cream puffs and over the counter medications look after their own.
    “No one to help us but ourselves, huh Dad?!”
“Avec gratitude.”