So he liked to go by a different train. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. . " "Hum!" "Have you any reason to suppose he survived the accident?" inquired Thames eagerly. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock.
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