自我不是坚固的事物，而是回声的集合。

The truth about the world is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is. A hat trick in a medicine show. A fevered dream. A trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent. An itinerant carnival. A migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning.

每个清晨，我从床上跳下来，然后就踩上了地雷。那个地雷就是我自己。在爆炸之后，我把那一天剩下来的时间用来把炸烂后的碎片收拾到一起。

我们看到的不是事物的本质，而是自己的倒影。