The truth is a fog, in which one man sees the heavenly host and the other one sees a flying elephant.

He felt as if he had been shipwrecked on the Titanic, but in the nick of time had been rescued. By the Lusitania

Insanity is catching.

Picture a tall, dark figure, surrounded by cornfields... NO, YOU CAN'T RIDE A CAT. WHO EVER HEARD OF THE DEATH OF RATS RIDING A CAT? THE DEATH OF RATS WOULD RIDE SOME KIND OF DOG. Picture more fields, a great horizon-spanning network of fields, rolling in gentle waves... DON'T ASK ME I DON'T KNOW. SOME KIND OF TERRIER, MAYBE. ...fields of corn, alive, whispering in the breeze... RIGHT, AND THE DEATH OF FLEAS CAN RIDE IT TOO. THAT WAY YOU KILL TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. ...awaiting the clockwork of the seasons. METAPHORICALLY.

"It would seem that you have no useful skill or talent whatsoever" he said. "Have you thought of going into teaching?"

Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.

Ultimately, there is the freedom to take the consequences.