Vladimir Nabokov, in his Lectures on Literature {1980}, saw it all: Literature was not born the day when a boy crying "wolf, wolf" came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels; literature was born on the day when a boy came crying "wolf, wolf" and there was no wolf behind him.
( Stanislas Dehaene )
[ Consciousness and the Brain: ]
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