All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone tried to tell me what it was. I accepted their answers too, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory. I was naïve. I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which I, and only I, could answer. It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realizationhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif everyone else appears to have been born with: that I am nobody but myself.
— Ralph Waldo Ellison
American author (1914-64) best known for his novel Invisible Man