But what do we choose to keep in this miraculous cabinet?
“(…) You’re so tough. So tough and rigid and frozen that you can’t move out of the space you’ve been given (…) Your head is like mine, like all our heads; big enough to contain every god and devil there ever was. Big enough to hold the weight of oceans and the turning stars. Whole universes fit in there! But what do we choose to keep in this miraculous cabinet? Little broken things, sad trinkets that we play with over and over. The world turns our key and we play the same little tune again and again and again and we think that tune’s all we are (…)
“(…) Ah, I feel a sadness on me, Dane. That’s how the irish people say it. In their language, you can’t say, “I AM sad,” or “I AM happy”. They understood what we english people have long forgot. We’re not our sadness. We’re not our happiness or our pain but our language hypnotizes us and traps us in little labelled boxes (…)”
– Grant Morrison: The Invisibles.