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With relief, with humiliation, with terror, he understood that he also was an illusion, that someone else was dreaming him.
The Circular Ruins, Jorge Luis Borges
 
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
The Waste Land, Thomas Stearns Eliot
 
A beach tells many lies but somewhere the truth is always written.
Islands in the Stream, Ernest Hemingway