Groups are grammatical fictions; only individuals exist, and each individual is different.

Only the madman is absolutely sure.

Certitude belongs exclusively to those who only own one encyclopedia.

The border between the Real and the Unreal is not fixed, but just marks the last place where rival gangs of shamans fought each other to a standstill.

On a planet that increasingly resembles one huge Maximum Security prison, the only intelligent choice is to plan a jail break.

If one can only see things according to one's own belief system, one is destined to become virtually deaf, dumb, and blind.