Tyndale

I’ve never understood why heavy drinking or methodically doping yourself is so attractive. Getting wrecked with your pals, once in a while, when you’re younger: okay, indeed, hooray. But my indifference to booze and drugs stems from their failure to change anything: your woes wait for you. Finally, frankly, I’m too impoverished to spunk money on intoxicants. When it gets too much, my solution is to be unconscious. Go to sleep, it costs nothing, and when you wake up your luck might have changed.

We’re getting deep here if you start thinking about it. What’s interesting about religions is that they all view, this, this here ride, as a bit of a nuisance, a dreary obstacle course, a ghastly bit of gum stuck on our soul.

It’s always depressing to come back to an empty home. It’s not where I want to be. It’s not where anyone would want to be.

There are places that are waiting for you. You may not have learnt this, but there are.

I don’t give myself airs: I know I don’t have a great intellect. I don’t know any languages, I don’t know the dates of battles or kings and queens. My technical knowledge extends to changing the oil in my car. I can’t sing. I can’t dance. Eminence at my golf club has eluded me, but… but I always thought I had some smarts, something, a little fox in the box. And of course the question that comes to mind as you return once more to your sweaty mattress in a shitty bedsit, is if you’re so clever, how come you’ve ended up here partnering His Puceness?

...as soon as you get the crowd in, the squabbling starts. No business is about business, it’s almost entirely about backstabbing. Whether you’re selling enlightenment or dog food, the paramount concern is to plant your boot on your colleagues’ windpipes.

Doing anything is better than doing nothing.