Let him who reads forgive the intrusion of a dream into a history of fact. But...

Let him who reads forgive the intrusion of a dream into a history of fact. But it came so home to me-I saw it all so clear in a moment, as it were; and, besides, who shall say what proportion of fact, past, present, or to come, may lie in the imagination? What is imagination? Perhaps it is the shadow of the intangible truth, perhaps it is the soul's thought.

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