For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.

Weren't we all crazy in our sleep? What was sleep, after all, but the process by which we dumped our insanity into a dark subconscious pit and came out on the other side ready to eat cereal instead of our neighbor's children?

It revealed a cruelty that really made one wonder if the universe was such a good idea after all.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

I am not shy about admitting my modest talents. For example, I am happy to admit that I am better than average at clever remarks, and I also have a flair for getting people to like me. But to be perfectly fair to myself, I am ever-ready to confess my shortcomings, too, and a quick round of soul-searching forced me to admit that I had never been any good at all at breathing water. As I hung there from the seat belt, dazed and watching the water pour in and swirl around my head, this began to seem like a very large character flaw.

I'm quite sure more people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake all of it." --Dexter

I don't know if you have noticed this, but it is quite possible for two human beings to have a conversation in which one or both parties involved has absolutely no idea what they're talking about.