the danger of friends and enemies

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Sometimes the wit and wisdom obscures what I consider a serious fact.

As in:

 I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member (Groucho Marx)

Certainly that qualifies as a witticism anyone might wish s/he had uttered.

But more seriously, I think...

Which is more dangerous -- a life among enemies or a life among friends?

I would say, a life among friends.

Enemies have the good grace to tell me I am full of shit.

Friends have the capacity to tell me I am not.

At which point I may snuggle down and actually start believing them.

At which point, I really am full of shit.
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