“You know what, sometimes it seems to me we’re living in a world that we fabricate for ourselves. We decide what’s good and what isn’t, we draw maps of meanings for ourselves … And then we spend our whole lives struggling with what we have invented for ourselves. The problem is that each of us has our own version of it, so people find it hard to understand each other.”
There was some truth in what she said. (Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead, pg. 224, by Olga Tokarczuk, translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones)
