We all belong here. We’re all torturing each other, all the time, whether we know it or not, whether we want to or not, whether we enjoy it or not.
In short, the goal of customer service is to create raving fans.
That's not fair. That's not fair at all.
There’s a grimy and shitty part of every good thing in the world and I’m always pointing toward it. It’s my thing.
Maybe we should just wait out this story a little longer. It might get better, and if not it’ll probably end soon.
They’re nice to look at, true, but once you’ve seen one display you’ve pretty much seen them all.
"What, am I King Midas, trusting only the reeds bobbing about in the wind to whisper the secret that I have ass’s ears? And did not the wind and the reeds divulge this secret to all anyway? So do I understand that when I write, even these lines, unless I burn them, they will be read, perhaps not in my lifetime, but nonetheless by someone."