“I think, therefore I am, said a man whose mother quickly hit him on the head, saying, I hit my son on the head, therefore I am.No no, you've got it all wrong, cried the man.So she hit him on the head again and cried, therefore I am.You're not, not that way; you're supposed to think, not hit, cried the man.. . . I think, therefore I am, said the man.I hit, therefore we both are, the hitter and the one who gets hit, said the man's mother.But at this point the man had ceased to be; unconscious he could not think. But his mother could. So she thought, I am, and so is my unconscious son, even if he doesn't know it . . .”

“And if you can believe it…she slapped me again. “What the hell is wrong with you? Stop hitting me!” I finally looked up at her, but she was a blur. She hit me so hard my damn eyes were watering (I was not crying – eyes water. I think we all know I’m a badass and I don’t cry).”

“He could be a butterfly dreaming he's a man.""Well, he's not. He's a big fat man dreaming he's a big fat butterfly. What the hell am I supposed to do?" There was another hesitation. "I'm not sure. You don't happen to have a large net handy, do you?" "I want to hit him. I want to hit YOU, but I also want to hit him.”

“I am mad, I think. I am mad therefore I think. I am mad therefore I think I am.”

“I think, therefore I am, therefore I am photographable.”

“I am hitting my head against the walls, but the walls are giving way.”