Mirrors of our states of mind, icebergs are allegories of the passing of time, lures in our mundane life. They are beautiful vanities. We deduce from the fate of the iceberg that the coldness of the ice extinguishes the glow of life. The frosty mists frighten us. They also reassure us. The slight shiver we feel comes from the fact that we do not live in these harsh lands and that we contemplate their dramas from more welcoming shores. We have constructed a scene and prefer the artifice of the show to the realities behind the decor. We can guess that what happens to them affects our lives. But they are out there. We look first deep into the icebergs for evidence of our mortal condition. We then turn our face to one of the surfaces and see only our reflection.

(Thinking Like an Iceberg, pp. 155-156)