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. I want you. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. "You have all the world before you. Only after he had pushed himself completely inside was the friction lessened.
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