What the Philosophers say about reality is often as deceptive as when you see a sign in a second-hand store that reads: Pressing Done Here. If you went in with your clothes to have them pressed you would be fooled; the sign is for sale.
— Søren Kierkegaard, “Diapsalmata” from Either/Or.
NyQuil: Sweet, syrupy nectar of medicated bliss.
NyQuil: It'll make you dream in Technicolor. (Actually I think my dreams lately have had more of a Kodachrome tint, but you get the idea.)
NyQuil: what more need be said?
There's still the most important question, that's what!
Labels: reckoning
A fire broke out backstage in a theatre. The Clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; the acclaim was even greater. I think that's just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe it's a joke.
— Søren Kierkegaard, “Diapsalmata” from Either/Or.
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