In the early morning darkness they migrate like lemmings from neighborhoods in which they don’t know their neighbors down impersonal expressways to catacombs of commerce where they scurry about like rats in a maze. At lunch they leave jobs in which they hardly know their co-workers to work out at a health club with other overweight men they’ve never met. After working late and forgetting to call home, they leave customers whose names they easily forget to arrive home after dark for a warmed over dinner with a wife they barely know. On Sunday they arise and travel to a church with kids they never spend much time with to hear a sermon with a bunch of people whose names they have long since forgotten from a pastor to whom they’ve only said hello. They rush out the door to watch football games for which they will never remember the score. Their lives look as thing as cardboard. They are the generation of cardboard men who live, eat, and sleep cardboard lives.
--unknown author, quoted from Pat