You Can Count How Many Seeds Are

Then - As He Was Talking - A Set Of Tail-lights Going Past Lit Up Mcmurphy's Face, And The Windshield Reflected An Expression That Was Allowed Only Because He Figured It'd Be Too Dark For Anybody In The Car To See, Dreadfully Tired And Strained And Frantic, Like There Wasn't Enough Time Left For Something He Had To Do.

Mr. Bibbit, You Might Warn This Mr. Harding That I'm So Crazy I Admit To Voting For Eisenhower. Bibbit! You Tell Mr. Mcmurphy I'm So Crazy I Voted For Eisenhower Twice! And You Tell Mr. Harding Right Back — He Puts Both Hands On The Table And Leans Down, His Voice Getting Low — That I'm So Crazy I Plan To Vote For Eisenhower Again This November.

It Is Just As Much An Offense To Take Offense As It Is To Give Offense.

He Knows That You Have To Laugh At The Things That Hurt You Just To Keep Yourself In Balance, Just To Keep The World From Running You Plumb Crazy.

To Hell With Facts! We Need Stories.