“You can put anything into words, except your own life. It is this impossibility that condemns us to remain as our companions see and mirror us, those who claim to know me, those who call themselves my friends, and never allow me to change, and discredits every miracle (which I cannot put into words, the inexpressible, which I cannot prove) simply so they can say, ‘I know you.'” From Max Frisch’s I’m Not Stiller