I enjoy talking to you. Your mind appeals to me. It resembles my own mind except that you happen to be insane.
Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters inside your skull.
For, after all, how do we know that two and two make four? Or that the force of gravity works? Or that the past is unchangeable? If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable – what then?
The mind will play curious tricks when it is in a tight corner.
The man who really merits pity is the man who has been down from the start, and faces poverty with a blank, resourceless mind.
