course of learning to undertake in order to increase
his knowledge, the philosopher would reply, "If you want to learn
something, become a teacher." Whenever some grateful hearer would
ask how he could repay the philosopher for his advice, he would
always answer, "The best way to repay a debt to me is to cancel a
debt owed to you."

The Man Who Talked Backwards reversed even the most common of
proverbs. Instead of repeating that "to love is to be patient," he
would always quote, "To be patient is to love." Rather than noting
that "seeing is believing," he would say, "Believing is seeing."
For, he explained, what you believe controls what you see.

A young woman once asked him, "What can I do to make someone my
friend? Shall I oil my skin or brush my hair?"

"Rather you should oil the skin and brush the hair of the one you
like," answered the philosopher.

Another day a young scholar approached The Man Who Talked Backwards
and asked him what books he should read, "For," the student said, "I
realize that the more I read the more I will know."

"You will indeed learn something by reading," answered the
philosopher, "but the more you read the less you will know. That is
what makes reading of value."

"But how shall I know what beliefs I should hold in order to live
the best life?" the young scholar asked.

"You think that your beliefs shape your actions," replied the
philosopher, "but I tell you, it is your actions that shape
your beliefs."

One day a woman came to the Man Who Talked Backwards for advice.
"I know," she said, "that 'to live is to choose,' so I have come
here to discover how I might fix my choices to live a fuller, more
productive life."

"The better saying," said the philosopher, "is that 'to choose is to
live.' But if you want to live life more fully, do less."

"Do less?" the woman asked with surprise. "But I'm an achiever. I
thrive on accomplishment."

"Perhaps you have already diluted your life into meaninglessness,"
suggested the philosopher.

"But I'm easily bored," said the woman.

"I am truly sorry," said the philosopher. "Did you ever seek help
for yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"For your infirmity of being bored."

"My infirmity?" asked the woman, again surprised.

"Ah," said the philosopher, "You attribute your boredom to others or
to external circumstances."

"Well, of course," she said.

"In that case, I am sorry for your two infirmities."

"But I want t