Men are the dreams of a shadow.
Creatures of a day, what is any one? What is he not? Man is but a dream of a shadow. Yet when there comes as a gift of heaven a gleam of sunshine, there rest upon men a radiant light and, aye, a gentle life.
We are things of a day. What are we? What are we not? The shadow of a dream is man, no more.
Mankind is a dream of a shadow.
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