Mark Twain --whose mordantly hilarious stories I am now listening to while at the gym-- remarks thusly in the "Prefactory" to his 1872 Roughing It.
Yes, take it all around, there is quite a good deal of information in the
book. I regret this very much; but really it could not be helped:
information appears to stew out of me naturally, like the precious ottar
of roses out of the otter. Sometimes it has seemed to me that I would
give worlds if I could retain my facts; but it cannot be. The more I calk
up the sources, and the tighter I get, the more I leak wisdom.
Therefore, I can only claim indulgence at the hands of the reader, not
I feel ya, bro. I feel ya.