You’re like:

Abseiling (if you could teach an abalone to seil)

Busking in Brunswick with a balalaika,

Cats who only eat Dine,

Dancing (strictly no ballroom),

Ease (only accomplished without practice)

Fencing without a face mask,

G, but with no strings attached,

Honesty (often unseemly and embarrassing),

Intelligence (seldom found disappearing up itself),

Joy (beware of limitations),

Knowledge, useful for renovating prejudice,

Love, proudly irrational,

Milk, wholesome but abandoned in hot weather,

No (there’s no part of it you don’t understand),

Outrage, the truly righteous emotion,

Psychology, but only if you want to be,

Quagmires, only dangerous to quag dancers,

Romance, but more boon than Mills,

Similarity, except for the differences,

Treasure, unreachable to those without a clue,

Us (fascinating, witty, and cultured)

Vulgarity, forgiven when delivered with panache,

Water (but only when the champagne runs out)

Xanthippe, (the wife of Socrates), the real inventor of Socratic irony,

Yoghurt, just off enough to be attractive,

And, finally,

Zero, rounded, whole,

and nothing more nor less than what you want to be.