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I don't like people touching my face.

On the unconscious level, touch seems to impart a subliminal sense of caring and connection.

Some people aren't touchy-feely, but I grew up in a family where you'd walk into the family room and there'd be five people on the couch with an arm here, an arm there, everyone scratching and taking turns.

Those who enjoy their own emotionally bad health and who habitually fill their own minds with the rank poisons of suspicion, jealousy and hatred, as a rule take umbrage at those who refuse to do likewise, and they find a perverted relief in trying to denigrate them.

The environment around you shapes who you are. How you handle an emergency or how you react when someone is rude to you, that's you.

I'm a sensitive guy; I respond to things that make my eyes well up a little bit, or make me root for people. I find the human condition interesting.

I like people who shake other people up and make them feel uncomfortable.

Humans are nervous, touchy creatures and can be easily offended. Many are deeply insecure. They become focused and energized by taking offence; it makes them feel meaningful and alive.

I very rarely came across rude or disrespectful people. I don't know how I slipped by all of them, but I honestly can't think of one experience off the top of my head that was like that. I'm sure they're there, but I'd have to think really hard to recall them.

The world is philosophically booby-trapped; touch an interesting subject, and it just might blow up in your face. Some say it's better not to touch.