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Can one know oneself? Is one ever somebody? I don't know anything about it any more. It now seems to me that one changes from day to day and that every few years one becomes a new being. It is useless to search for my former identity. I fail to find within myself any trace of that anxious, agitated person who was dissatisfied with herself and impatient of others. No doubt I cherished the illusion of greatness. It was the fashion in those days...
-- George Sand
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