When I was young, even my loquacious father would grow weary of my talking. And then sometimes it was out of empathy for my mother’s desperation for brevity that he would try his hand at “informing my presentation.” He’d say what his dad had said to him:

You have two ears and one mouth. Listen twice as much as you talk.

I appreciate the sentiment, really. But I have two ears and one mouth. I have to compensate for the ears’ advantage.