A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick -- a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.
Neil GaimanRead
I am remarkably likeable. Few people have ever been as likeable as I am. There is, frankly, no end to my likeability. People gather together in public assemblies to discuss how much they like me. I have several awards, and a small medal from a small country in South America which pays tribute both to how much I am liked and my general all around wonderfulness. I don't have it on me, of course. I keep my medals in my sock drawer.
Interpretation
This quote humorously emphasizes the speaker's self-proclaimed likability and the absurdity of boasting about it.
In this quote, Neil Gaiman playfully exaggerates the concept of being likable, turning it into a tongue-in-cheek reflection on self-confidence and how individuals often perceive themselves versus how they are perceived by others. The humor lies in the absurdity of gathering public assemblies to discuss someone's likability and the triviality of medals kept in a sock drawer, mocking the seriousness often attached to personal accolades.
In practice
During a stand-up comedy routine to illustrate self-deprecating humor.
A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick -- a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.
Jesus. Low-Key Lyesmith," said Shadow. and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. "Loki," he said. "Loki Lie-smith." "You're slow," said Loki, "but you get there in the end." And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and the embers danced in the shadows of his eyes.
As a teenager I wrote to R.A. Lafferty. And he responded, too, with letters that were like R.A. Lafferty short stories, filled with elliptical answers to straight questions and simple answers to complicated ones.
The important thing to understand about American history, wrote Mr. Ibis, in his leather-bound journal, is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for the children, or the easily bored.
Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.
I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend...I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend.
For what good turn? Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.
The people who must never have power are the humorless. To impossible certainties of rectitude they ally tedium and uniformity
I have heard upscale adult U.S. citizens ask the ship's Guest Relations Desk whether snorkeling necessitates getting wet...I now know the precise mixocological difference between a Slippery Nipple and a fuzzy navel.
Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right.
We have met the enemy and have asked them over later for drinks and dancing.
I’d rather have the thieves than the neighbors - the thieves don't impose. Thieves just want your things, neighbors want your time.
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