A fellow comes into a pharmacy and asks for a vial of Cyanide. The pharmacist, trying
to keep a professional posture, asked what he wanted it for. He answered, "I want to
kill my wife."
"I'm sorry Sir," the pharmacist replied, "but you will have to understand under such circumstances I can't sell you any Cyanide." The guy reaches into his wallet and produces a photo of his wife.
The pharmacist blushes and replies, "I am sorry Sir, I didn't realize you had a prescription."
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"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act, but a habit." - Aristotle