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. We can’t. You came out like an ant for your nuptial flight. Do so; and I am yours as heretofore. He knew that he could translate literally. I’d need to be out of my senses.
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