Identity (n.) taken as a matter of difference and class makes selfhood feel like separation — a world to which I must form a relation.
Identity (n.) in the historical sense is no more than a selection — a few events abstracted from infinitely many and judged significant by conventional standards.
Identity (n.) itself, down to one's very feeling of existence, is supplied by the social complex of language, law, status, role and cosmology.
Identity (n.) is just consistent behavior: "who" a man is means only that he does not suddenly start behaving like somebody else.
Identity (n.) may require a quarrel: to be is to differ, so whoever does not fight has no identity, and whoever is not self-ish has no self.
Identity (n.) begins when man names himself — and then he feels, like the word, separate and static against the fluid world.
Identity (n.) asked about "at this moment" gets the honest answer of humming the song you are hearing — anything else is news about who you were.
Identity (n.) has nothing left to attach to once you stop identifying with the little man inside — except everything.