"I pulled the map from my back pocket. It was wet and crumpled, the lines I had traced to highlight my route now faded. I stared at my markings, hoping that they might lead me out of the Amazon, rather than deeper into it.
The letter Z was still visible in the center of the map. Yet it seemed less like a signpost than like a taunt, another testament to my folly."
-- David Grann, The Lost City of Z.
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