distraction

Eighteen pockets in one suit? I haven't the time.

The author says the earliest Australian aborigines devoted extraordinary amounts of energy to enterprises no one now can understand.

Security is by far the city's predominant business.

Idling of our elders is called business; the idling of boys, though quite like it, is punished by those same elders, and no one pities either the boys or the men.

In politics, nothing good ever comes from the unexpected.

Work, the gospel of work, the sanctity of work, laborare est orare - all that tripe and nonsense. 'Work!' he once broke out contemptuously against the reasonable expostulations of Philip Quarles, 'work is no more respectable than alcohol, and it serves exactly the same purpose: it just distracts the mind, makes a man forget himself. Work's simply a drug, that's all. It's humiliating that men shouldn't be able to live without drugs, soberly; it's humiliating that they shouldn't have the courage to see the world and themselves as they really are. They must intoxicate themselves with work. It's stupid. The gospel of work's just a gospel of stupidity and funk. Work may be prayer; but it's also hiding one's head in the sand, it's also making such a din and a dust that a man can't hear himself speak or see his own hand before his face. It's hiding yourself from yourself. No wonder the Samuel Smileses and the big business men are such enthusiasts for work. Work gives them the comforting illusion of existing, even of being important. If they stopped working, they'd realize that they simply weren't there at all, most of them. Just holes in the air, that's all. Holes with perhaps a rather nasty smell in them. Most Smilesian souls must smell rather nasty, I should think. No wonder they daren't stop working. They might find out what they really are, or rather aren't. It's a risk they haven't the courage to take.

The confusion created by mode of fictitious imagery, staged to produce a perceived idea of character or life, does only that - confuses.

More voices means less trust in any given voice.

Television was suppressing their freedom not to know.

Television news is akin to audible wallpaper.

Oh, don't go on like that!" cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands in despair. "Consider what a great girl you are. Consider what a long way you've come today. Consider what o'clock it is. Consider anything, only don't cry!"Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears. "Can you keep from crying by considering things?" she asked."That's that way it's done," the Queen said with great decision: "nobody can do two things at once, you know.

Well, hell yeah! I__ gonna kick your ass, too!__ narrowed my eyes at him. __ot this time you__e not. I have a new superpower.__e laughed. __nd what__ that? Harsh language?__ leaned over to kiss his neck once, and then ran my tongue up to his ear, kissing his earlobe. He froze in place. __istraction,_ I breathed into his ear. He grabbed my arms and flipped me onto my back. __ou__e going to miss another class.

... answered his knock with a smile, a short one forced through because she was at heart a warm person, not given to the dark mood swings which now plagued her.

Each one of us is serious individually, but together we become frivolous.

The more my brain was fed, the hungrier it became.

Samuel FB Morse's SECOND question over the telegraph was, "Have you any news?

He [Abram] believes that the PRESENT is the only real thing and everything else is an illusiona distraction

The author tells a story wherein a missionary friend of his was invited by unbelievers on a train ride to play cards. The friend declined, saying that he did not bring his hands with him. He explained to the astonished group that the hands attached to what they saw as his body belonged to the Lord, and he was thereby able to explain the Gospel.