I'm probably going to have a curse put on me for starting this thread, and I don't really believe in socionics, but I don't care, I just want to hear...
I'd think it'd be the most prevalent among them. It is a sensation. Who'd ruin the Se function of your arms for a little temporary Si pleasure other...
Van Gogh: probably IEE or something, that art looks so ugly, people only like him because he disembowled himself and ran over the hill with his guts...
Die Gedanken sind nicht frei, wir können sie erraten. Sie fliehen vorbei, daher werden sie Daten. Dieser Mensch kann sie wissen, jeder Jäger sie schießen. Es bleibet dabei: die Gedanken sind nicht frei.
Location:
Höheres und Höchstes
Interests:
Truth, Justice, The American Way
Occupation:
Funkoclast
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HAMLET I will speak to this fellow.—
Whose grave’s this, sirrah?
GRAVEDIGGER Mine, sir.
O, a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
HAMLET I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in ’t.
GRAVEDIGGER You lie out on ’t, sir, and therefore ’tis
not yours. For my part, I do not lie in ’t, yet it is
mine.
HAMLET Thou dost lie in ’t, to be in ’t and say it is thine.
’Tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou
liest.
GRAVEDIGGER ’Tis a quick lie, sir; ’twill away again
from me to you.
HAMLET What man dost thou dig it for?
GRAVEDIGGER For no man, sir.
HAMLET What woman then?
GRAVEDIGGER For none, neither.
HAMLET Who is to be buried in ’t?
GRAVEDIGGER One that was a woman, sir, but, rest
her soul, she’s dead.
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