The slavish conformist is readily identified by his outsized pride in his independent mind.
We all come into this world with our little egos equipped with individual horns. If we don’t blow them, who will?
It is non-consumption that has become conspicuous.
The future will marvel that we regarded “be yourself ” as sound moral advice.
Those tiny notifications are ego reified, tugging at you incessantly, like a child at its mother in the supermarket, in the cereal aisle.
Persistent detractors are a mark of distinction, as everyone discovers when he acquires them.
The aphorist strives for the shock of recognition, the moment it dawns on the reader that, yes, that is just what other people are like.
Reality, n. The court to which one eventually appeals after losing competitions for power, wealth, and status.
We are apt to disagree with whatever does not provide an occasion to congratulate ourselves.
People who refuse to be categorized are all alike.
Where others regard us as of no use, we fancy ourselves despised.