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He began to think of people in a new light; how everyone's just little more than that frightened, fragile brain stem, surrounded by meat and physics, too terrified to recognize the sum of their parts, insulated in the shells of their skulls and lower-middle-class houses, afraid of change, afraid of decisions, afraid of pain, stuck in traffic, listening to terrible music.

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Me in Rock: This Shirt Is Pants | Mr. Fusion
Me in blog: izenmania

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You are a Leprechaun. I'm not even sure what you are. Whiskey-soaked reports from your baffling Isle of Ire raise more questions than they answer. Are you a dwarf? Where's your pickax? If you're an elf, why don't you cobble? You'd think with all your gold, you could invest in some land, perhaps a title, and improve your station. Instead, you hide it in meteorologically-determined locations. You're getting killed on inflation, little friend!

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Superbly Sublime Splendiferous Sterling Shiftmaster of the Realm of Unproductivity and Procrastination
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You are a Player. There are no small parts, only small people, and we suspect that's due to malnutrition endemic to the period. Every night you're a different person, knave or king, man or woman, 875 roles in all. The ones the audience liked got you applause, and the ones they didn't got you pelted rotten vegetables. The theater is a harsh mistress, but you love her dearly. Plus, it beats working for a living!
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'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: 'we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice
'You must be' said the Cat 'or you wouldn't have come here'