If you got a killer line, then use it once or twice.

You may never get another chance. When the fickle foot of fate chases you down and kicks your butt, you’ve got one chance to deliver, two if you’re lucky, or fame and fortune pass you by, and your fifteen minutes are up. Fame runs on fleet feet, if and when it runs at all. It’s a societal disease, not a social disease, a disease of the soul, the collective soul. I don’t believe in the collective soul, except in the minimal sense. It’s the floor you walk on, the carpet you clean. It does little to inspire you, even less to fire you up into a truly higher orbit. Only the individual can rise above the crowd.