Friendship is an obstetric art; it draws out our richest and deepest resources; it unfolds the wings of our dreams and hidden indeterminate thoughts; it serves as a check on our judgements, tries out our new ideas, keeps up our ardor, and inflames our enthusiasm.
We don’t talk, we hold forth. We don’t converse, we expound.
The cheapest route to a new opportunity is conversation.
The head of Goldwater’s California operation “what was so uncomfortable around people that he worked up a routine to deal with employees with whom he was forced to share an elevator: “Taken your vacation yet?” he would ask when they entered; answer took just long enough to deliver him to his fourth-floor office.
Brock sighed. “Alright then, Spunky. I was thinking about life, I guess.
Americans no longer talk to each other, they entertain each other. They do not exchange ideas, they exchange images. They do not argue with propositions; they argue with good looks, celebrities and commercials.
What ho!” I said.
“What ho!” said Motty.
“What ho! What ho!”
“What ho! What ho! What ho!”
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.
It’s basically the same in all periods of societies. If you belong to the majority, you can avoid thinking about lots of troubling things.’
‘And those troubling things are all you /can/ think about when you’re one of the few.’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ she said mournfully. ‘But maybe, if you’re in a situation like that, you learn to think for yourself.’
‘Yes, but maybe what you end up thinking for yourself /about/ is all those troubling things.
Every person has something meaningful to say in the conversation of life.
That which is worth telling is not worth having.