Twenty unknown ladies

Somewhere in Cochonfucius' garden, twenty nice, unknown ladies spoke in turn. The first one said: The black veil over my eyes has been lifted. The second one: The first state is contained in the next. The third one: The process was a clarifying experience.

The fourth one: The floor is warm.

The fifth one: The present system cannot be abolished, as long as we do not put something equivalent in its stead.

The sixth one: The mystery is at the center of the ineffable.

The seventh one: Best of all is raspberry bread with frosting.

The eighth one: Stress is the only factor of evolution in natural systems.

The ninth one: The song of faith is an effort of imagination.

The tenth one: The day exists.

The eleventh one: The noun is a linguistic entity.

The twelfth one: Bermuda grass buries its roots deeply underground.

The thirteenth one: The world is not what we believe it is.

The fourteenth one: A lie is a concept.

The fifteenth one: In the evening of Epiphany, beasts speak in human languages.

The sixteenth one: The wine is sweet.

The seventeenth one: Male chauvinism is dead.

The eighteenth one: The stamp is to pay the postman.

The nineteenth one: The verifier cannot determine that this sentence is true.

The twentieth one: Dry soap has better foam.

So they drank in silence, thinking of marvelous conversations of yesterday and tomorrow.