“I want them to flick Plutarch’s nose in mistake for mine and to scald themselves by insulting the Seneca in me. I have to hide my weakness beneath those great reputations.” This appears to be a difference in my project. When I quote someone else, it is usually to acknowledge a thought that never occurred to me. I do my best to show gratitude to people who contribute to anything I do, except in the unusual circumstances where that generosity prefers to be cloaked.
Books are a form of attitude adjustment for me. I do not expect them to take away my troubles or to capture my emotions. Rather, I approach them as a means of seeing, to taking in some aspect of consciousness that I could not see from my vantage point.
The best of them help me reframe aspects of my life and appreciate things that I enjoyed without expression. The sheer joy of wandering through a city was enhanced by James Joyce. The way tastes and smells recall memories was confirmed by Marcel Proust. I would never use a thinker as a shield against reader disagreements, I happily dangle my most controversial thoughts as mine.