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The person is, as cliche-ridden isomorph, a creature of habit. One has certain convictions, obsessions, eccentricities, stylistic features, indications that set one, by prescription, apart. All this is begging the question, a delay tactic, for what most impresses its mark on the spirit, an insistence lived, a laugh in the face of horror, mark its presence without recourse to definition. It is the world that is felt, but it is a made place, and within it they make it who after its composition simply by living and doing as they will and can do.

--kit robinson