I used to read a fair amount of fiction, until reality became more fantastic than fantasy ever could be. I enjoyed the works of a pulp writer named Raymond Chandler, a fellow much derided by all the right sort.
I was reminded of two Chandlerisms by someone entirely unrelated to most anything in my life.
The minute you try to talk business with him he takes the attitude that he is a gentleman and a scholar, and the moment you try to approach him on the level of his moral integrity he starts to talk business.
I knew one thing: as soon as anyone said you didn’t need a gun, you’d better take one along that worked.
I do not order my life according to pop culture, and do not recommend that others do so either. But…when one discovers nuggets of truth buried in the detritus one would be foolish to cast them aside without contemplation.