Last night I had a dream. I was writing (in this here blog) an apology for my absence yesterday. Yes, I promised on Tuesday that I would be more consistent. No, I didn’t manage to keep that promise. But I obviously felt so guilty that my subconscious poked me about it IN MY SLEEP. Happy now?
Anyway, in the dream I was quoting Oscar Wilde: A foolish consistency is the refuge of hobgoblins’ minds. Yes, that’s what I said: a foolish consistency is the refuge of hobgoblins’ minds. Check me out! I quote Wilde in my sleep! Except, wait – it doesn’t make any sense.
[Googling.]
Friends, conscious or otherwise, here’s a hint. Be careful not to mix up the words of two writers.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. [Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803-1882, transcendentalist.]
Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. [Oscar Wilde, 1854-1900, sybarite.]
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