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. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. " "Permit me to see it, Sir James!" requested Jack.
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