From The City and Its Uncertain Walls, by Haruki Murakami:
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" 'The real me lives there, in that town surrounded by a wall,' you said. 'So the you that is sitting here next to me isn't the real you?' I had to ask. 'That’s right. The me here with you now isn't the real me. It's only a stand-in. Like a wandering shadow.' I thought it over. A wandering shadow? But I kept my opinions to myself."