Once Chuang Chou dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and
fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't
know he was Chuang Chou. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and
unmistakeable Chuang Chou. But he didn't know if he was Chuang Chou who had
dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Chuang Chou.
-- Chaung Tzu