"But in reality, no "I" is a unity, not even the most naïve, every "I" is a richly varied world, a small, starry firmament, a chaos of forms, of degrees and conditions, of inheritances and possibilities. The fact that every individual endeavors to see this chaos as a unity, and speaks of his own "I" as if it were a simple, firmly formed, clearly defined phenomenon: this misconception, which afflicts every man (even the highest), seems to be a necessity, a basic condition of life, like breathing and eating."
— Hermann Hesse, The Steppenwolf