It’s ironic, really, that I find myself here. I’m not complaining. I’m sure Darwin had no idea what his trip on the Beagle would mean. Still…it’s a little embarrassing. But the truth will out.
A man I knew died of cancer, after they had cut off half his jaw. His friend said it was because he swallowed ideas that were poisonous; he couldn’t spit them out.
How can you tell what’s in the bottle when they paint it blue?