‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. 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. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. . Both started. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. " The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their discomfiture. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death.
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