Things are not what they seem. The truth is not out there.
Though gentleman thinks about fruit / but his wife may not follow suit / but if he gets a pear / right out of thin air / her opinion will quickly be moot.
Every time you start a sentence with the phrase, “I thought”, think again.
Frazz, you’re not listening.
How curious. Here is this extant person, who, by his own account, was never born.
The bird has the experience of the freedom of the air, soaring, turning, swooping, climbing, gliding, pitching, rolling, swerving, completely at its own will. That’s flying. The airline passenger has the experience of being hauled through the air like a sack of potatoes, closed up and strapped into an aluminum tube lumbering from one point to another like an aerial tank truck. If that’s flying, then raw rotted skunk meat is filet mignon.
“It’s actually terribly simple, dear. I wrote it, you sign it, I become independently wealthy, and your wife doesn’t find out about our baby.”
The sorrow… The trauma… The haunting memories… I feel your pain, Louie.
When I compare the experience a bird has in the air with the experience I have in an airliner, I do not call what I do “flying”.
Oh, no, there’s one on Baker Street! Mrs. Hudson will never cook again! Holmes and Watson will die of bad food!