Философская книга.

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That was  all I needed  to hear. I  put on my  best airs and
sauntered over to  this man, who was known  as don Juan, and
told him I myself was an authority about peyote. I said that
it might be  worth his while to have lunch  and talk with me
-- or something unbearably arrogant to that effect.

The old power-lunch ploy. But  you weren't really much of an
authority, were you?

I knew  next  to  nothing  about  peyote!  But  I  continued
rattling  on --  boasting about  my knowledge,  intending to
impress him. I remember that he just looked at me and nodded
occasionally, without  saying a word.  My pretensions melted
in the  heat of that day.  I was stunned at  being silenced.
There I stood in the abyss,  until don Juan saw that his bus
had come. He said good- bye,  with the slightest wave of his
hand.  I felt  like an  arrogant imbecile,  and that was the
end.

Also the beginning.

Yes, that's when everything started. I learned that don Juan
was known as a brujo, which means, in English, medicine man,
curer,  sorcerer. It  became my  task to  discover where  he
lived. You know, I was very good at doing that, and I did. I
found out, and  I came to see him one  day. We took a liking
to each other and soon became good friends.

You felt like  a moron in this man's  presence, but you were
eager to seek him out?

The way don  Juan had looked at me there  in the bus station
was exceptional -- an unprecedented  event in my life. There
was  something remarkable  about his  eyes, which  seemed to
shine  with  a  light  all  their  own.  You  see, we are --
unfortunately we don't want to accept this, but we are apes,
anthropoids,  simians. There's  a primary  knowledge that we
all carry, directly  connected with the two-million-year-old
person  at the  root of  our brain.  And we  do our  best to

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