Sublime

True humor is, indeed, laughter at one’s Self—at the Divine Comedy, the fabulous deception, whereby one comes to imagine that a creature in existence is not also of existence, that what man is is not also what everything is. All the time we “know it in our bones” but conscious attention, distracted by details and differences, cannot see the whole f

know it’s not my business,” the fish said, before swimming away, “but can you tell me why you wanted to look like this?” The little girl said, “Beauty is temporary. Ugliness lasts forever.”

— Combien coûtent-elles ? — Une misère, répondit-il, une misère ; mais rien ne presse ; quand vous voudrez ; nous ne sommes pas des juifs !

He shrugs and gives me one of those sarcastic frowns that says, Okay, sure, but we both know you’re full of shit.