
Long ago, a certain Chuang Tzu [Zhuangzi] dreamt he was a butterfly—a butterfly fluttering here and there on a whim, happy and carefree, knowing nothing of Chuang Tzu. Then all of a sudden he woke to find that he was, beyond all doubt, Chuang Tzu. Who knows if it was Chuang Tzu dreaming of a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of Chuang Tzu? Chuang Tzu and butterfly: clearly there's a difference. This is called the transformation of things.
—from Chuang Tzu: The Inner Chapters
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