āI think that somehow, we learn who we really are and then live with that decision.ā
āDaughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,And marching single in an endless file,Bring diadems and fagots in their hands;To each they offer gifts after his will,Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all;I, in my pleached garden watched the pompForgot my morning wishes, hastilyTook a few herbs and apples, and the DayTurned and departed silent. I too lateUnder her solemn fillet saw the scorn.ā
ā Ralph Waldo Emerson