The secret impresses no one. The trick you use it for is everything.
I'm not interested in friends from those places, and I don't trust politicians! You're still acting like a street schmuck! You know, if we'd listened to you, we'd still be rolling out drunks for a living!
I like the stink of the streets. It makes me feel good. And I like the smell of it, it opens up my lungs. And it gives me a hard-on.
Now you're looking for the secret. But you won't find it because of course, you're not really looking. You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled.
No one cares about the man in the box, the man who disappears.
We're both getting old. All that we have left now are our memories. If you go to that party on Saturday night, you won't have those anymore. Tear up that invitation.