A man joins a monastery and takes a vow of silence: he's allowed to say two words every seven years. After the first seven years, the elders bring him in and ask for his two words. “Cold floors,” he says. They nod and send him away, bringing him warm mats and rugs to pray and lie on. Seven more years pass, They bring him back in and ask for his two words. He clears his throats and says, “Bad food.” They nod and send him away, giving him finer bread and fish for every meal. Seven more years pass. They bring him in for his two words. “I quit,” he says. “That's not surprising,” the elders say. “You've done nothing but complain since you got here.”
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