Facebook conversations remind me of these lines from Aldous Huxley's masterpiece Crome Yellow (Brave New World is rubbish):
Parallel straight lines, Denis reflected, meet only at infinity.
He might talk for ever of care-charmer sleep and she of
meteorology till the end of time. Did one ever establish contact
with anyone? We are all parallel straight lines. Jenny was only
a little more parallel than most.
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