He is gifted, strong-willed, open-minded, fearless, tenacious, dashing, circumspect—yet he is none of them! They’ve made him what he is, they’ve set his course for him, and yet they don’t belong to him. When’s he’s angry, something in him laughs. When he is sad, he is up to something. When something moves him, he turns against it. He’ll always see a good side to every bad action. What he thinks of anything will always depend on some possible context—nothing is, to him, what it is; everything is subject to change, in flux, part of a whole, of an infinite number of wholes presumably adding up to a superwhole that, however, he knows nothing about. So every answer he gives is only a partial answer, every feeling only an opinion, and he never cares what something is, only ‘how’ it is—some extraneous seasoning that somehow goes along with it, that’s what interests him. […]” (63-64) Musil, The Man without Qualities

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