But he never went to the hairdresser’s; he always cut his own hair. He never travelled by bus. He hardly ever did his shopping at the local shop, but always at the large supermarket outside town. All these were scenarios where he might have come into contact with people, or have been seen by them…he consistently avoided these social situations. What was it they had in common? That he might be assimilated into a community with no more than chance as its basis? That he might be seen in a way over which he had no control? That he was vulnerable sitting on the bus, in the hairdresser’s chair, by the supermarket till?
— Karl Ove Knausgaard, Death in the Family (My Struggle), p. 220