I am not I. I am this one walking beside me whom I do not see, whom at times I manage to visit, and whom at other times I forget; who remains calm and silent while I talk, and forgives, gently, when I hate, who walks where I am not, who will remain standing when I die.
Then what good is he? (Maggie) I ask myself every friggin’ day exactly what you did. What good am I? The answer is simple. There’s nothing good about me and I like it that way. Pride myself on it, in fact. (Savitar)