To each his or her own. You're free to leave, of course, but this ship is seaworthy.

I'm not going anywhere, even though I can swim just fine. I choose to sail on...

Even if the weekend lounge act is a washed-up ventriloquist. Even if no one has come by to freshen up my shiptini in a while and it's mostly melting ice. Even if my state room is next to the engine room and features a mattress that sags in the middle.

I willingly booked my ticket to the destination, and I have faith it'll get me there... and this ain't it.

I've heard the rumors: This ship is sinking! It's dead in the water! We've got engine failure! There's no one at the helm!

It's idle talk of tired passengers who can't watch one more minute of the ventriloquist, but I'll just skip the lounge act and keep my eyes on the horizon for a nice diversion.