The Limitations of Wisdom.

For thirty years people have been telling me that I’m wise. Well, I don’t know whether that’s true or not, but if it is I assume I must be wiser now than I was thirty years ago. And if that’s true, I feel entitled to make an observation:

Wisdom is a great tool for helping other people understand and come to terms with their problems, but when it comes to your own it has an unfortunate habit of lying down and playing dead. When somebody has reached into your chest and pulled your heart out, wisdom doesn’t want to know. 

(Apart from anything else, it fails to persuade you not to make statements charged with fanciful and embarrassing hyperbole.)