Using the words of others: a mosaic of sorts

While walking home through the Rynek one gloriously sultry summer evening I was struck by the wonderful contrast of evening; a different energy and dynamic rises as the sun sets.  And I am highly confident that this dynamic fits into identity: by analogy all identities - individual, collective, even global - exhibit a similar stark duality.  But here my communication ability breaks down and I am unable to reach further detail, to fully articulate the what and how and why.  Some refer to this as writer's block: your mind is pregnant with something, but you just aren't quite sure what it is or how you want to express it. 
Since I am unable to speak for myself today, permit me to share with you my thoughts through the words of others (all from www.bartleby.com):

"Oh, blank confusion! true epitome
Of what the mighty city is herself,
To thousands upon thousands of her sons,
Living amid the same perpetual whirl
Of trivial objects, melted and reduced
To one identity, by differences
That have no law, no meaning, and no end—"
-- William Wordsworth, The Prelude; VII. "Residence in London" (l. 722–728)

"An identity is questioned only when it is menaced, as when the mighty begin to fall, or when the wretched begin to rise, or when the stranger enters the gates, never, thereafter, to be a stranger...Identity would seem to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self: in which case, it is best that the garment be loose, a little like the robes of the desert, through which one's nakedness can always be felt, and, sometimes, discerned.  This trust in one's own nakedness is all that gives one the power to change one's robes."  --- James Balwin, The Price of the Ticket
 
"The real meditation is ... the meditation on one’s identity. Ah, voilà une chose!! You try it. You try finding out why you’re you and not somebody else. And who in the blazes are you anyhow? Ah, voilà une chose!" -- Ezra Pound, Ezra Pound and Dorothy Shakespeare: Their Letters 1909-1914
 
"Surely no mere mortal who has at all gone down into himself will ever pretend that his slightest thought or act solely originates in his own defined identity." -- Herman Melville, The Writings of Herman Melville, vol. 7

"The glance is natural magic. The mysterious communication established across a house between two entire strangers, moves all the springs of wonder. The communication by the glance is in the greatest part not subject to the control of the will. It is the bodily symbol of identity with nature. We look into the eyes to know if this other form is another self, and the eyes will not lie, but make a faithful confession what inhabitant is there." -- Ralph Emerson, “Behavior,” The Conduct of Life