You listen to bits of their stories, to snatches of their songs. You listen to them with compassion, with respect, sometimes in awe, sometimes with disgust. Each of them tells you something; each of them has an image, a voice... a reflection... an impact.
And you have to be very, very careful, because the time may come, when you are left among these reflections where nothing sounds but these bits and snatches, and then you lose the identity of yourself.