Your post made me think about how human beings often try to recognize each other through patterns.

MBTI, horoscopes, favorite books, ideologies, even “how many times you’ve read Gatsby.”

Even though it is just a sentence from a novel, it is still expected to define a certain type of person.

But good literature often does the opposite of categorizing people.

It destabilizes fixed patterns.

It pulls us into unfamiliar minds and unfamiliar emotions, and we come out slightly more confused, but also more sensitive.