Me neither. I did listen to it though and loved it. I have no one else to share my love of it with so here you go. (🛑 WORDS WORDS WORDS Warning!🛑)

Anyway, the main character is an r/drama poster from the mid 1800's. Some choice quotes for your new motivational screensavers:

“I am a sick man...I am a spiteful man. An unattractive man. I think that my liver hurts.”

“...there is no explaining anything by reasoning and so it is useless to reason.”

“I agree that two and two make four is an excellent thing; but to give everything its due, two and two make five is also a very fine thing.”

“I am to blame because, first of all, I am cleverer than anybody else around me.”

“You know the direct, legitimate fruit of consciousness is inertia, that is, conscious sitting-with-the-hands-folded. I have referred to this already. I repeat, I repeat with emphasis: all “direct” persons and men of action are active just because they are stupid and limited.”

“As for my own personal opinion. I find it somehow unseemly to love only well-being. Whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, smashing things is also sometimes very pleasant. I am not standing up for suffering, or for well-being either. I am standing up for my own caprices and for having them guaranteed when necessary.”

“I say, let the world perish, if I can always drink my tea.”

“The best definition of man is: a being that goes on two legs and is ungrateful.”

“I swear to you gentlemen, that to be overly conscious is a sickness, a real, thorough sickness.”

“I've never been a coward at heart, although I've always been a coward in action;”

“How can a man of consciousness have the slightest respect for himself”

“an intelligent man cannot become anything seriously, and it is only the fool who becomes anything.”

“Now answer me, sincerely, honestly, who lives past forty? I'll tell you who does: fools and scoundrels.”

“Oh, gentlemen, do you know, perhaps I consider myself an intelligent man, only because all my life I have been able neither to begin nor to finish anything. Granted I am a babbler, a harmless vexatious babbler, like all of us. But what is to be done if the direct and sole vocation of every intelligent man is babble, that is, the intentional pouring of water through a sieve?”

“It was from feeling oneself that one had reached the last barrier, that it was horrible, but that it could not be otherwise; that there was no escape for you; that you never could become a different man; that even if time and faith were still left you to change into something different you would most likely not wish to change; or if you did wish to, even then you would do nothing; because perhaps in reality there was nothing for you to change into.”

“You know the direct, legitimate fruit of consciousness is inertia, that is, conscious sitting-with-the-hands-folded. I have referred to this already. I repeat, I repeat with emphasis: all “direct” persons and men of action are active just because they are stupid and limited. How explain that? I will tell you:”

“The pleasure came precisely from being too clearly aware of your own degradation; from the feeling of having gone to the uttermost limits; that it is was vile, but it could not have been otherwise; that you could not escape, you could never make yourself into a different person” “Do you ask why I tortured and tormented myself? The answer is that it was too boring to sit and do nothing, and so I indulged my fancy.”