As I've Said, Freedom Is

In My Lifelong Study Of Human Beings, I Have Found That No Matter How Hard They Might Try, They Have Found No Way Yet To Prevent The Arrival Of Monday Morning. And They Do Try, Of Course, But Monday Always Comes, And All The Drones Have To Scuttle Back To Their Dreary Workaday Lives Of Meaningless Toil And Suffering.

I Was Good At Being Charming, One Of My Very Few Vanities.

It Revealed A Cruelty That Really Made One Wonder If The Universe Was Such A Good Idea After All.

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.

A Reasonable Being Might Think That He And I Could Find Some Common Ground; Have A Cup Of Coffee And Compare Our Passengers, Exchange Trade Talk And Chitchat About Dismemberment Techniques. But No: Doakes Wanted Me Dead. And I Found It Difficult To Share His Point Of View.