“Maybe there is no single self to speak of. Maybe you're a shifting collage of many different personas, each as authentic as the next. A kaleidoscope of ever-moving fragments, reflecting a thousand little impressions of the world around you, with flashes of different moods and vibrant clusters of quirks — but no broader pattern. Maybe you have no true colors. You're not some finished painting, signed and sealed in varnish. If there is a “real you,” surely it’s the mess of paint on the palette: colors swirling and mixing and playing together, perpetually unfinished, searching and striving to make something new.” AcceptancePersonalityKnowing Oneself Book:The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows Source: The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows