I might have told you the truth. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. 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. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper.
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