She Really Did Like Me, The Idiot.

I Mean, Really: What Kind Of Person Could Possibly Dislike Me?

...she Opened The Door Very Slowly And Carefully, Half Hiding Behind It, As If Badly Frightened Of What Might Be Waiting For Her On The Other Side. And Considering That It Was Me Waiting, This Showed Rare Common Sense.

Happily For Me, Ninety-nine Percent Of All Human Life Is Spent Simply Repeating The Same Old Actions, Speaking The Same Tired Clichés, Moving Like A Zombie Through The Same Steps Of The Dance We Plodded Through Yesterday And The Day Before And The Day Before. It Seems Horribly Dull And Pointless-but It Really Makes A Great Deal Of Sense. After All, If You Only Have To Follow The Same Path Every Day, You Don't Need To Think At All. Considering How Good Humans Are At Any Mental Process More Complicated Than Chewing, Isn't That The Best For Everybody?

What A Terrible Thing Life Can Be.

Dying Makes Everyone Weaker, Subject To Painful Insight, And Not Always Insight Into Any Kind Of Special Truth - It's Just The Approaching End That Makes People Want To Believe They Are Seeing Something In The Line Of A Great Revelation.