I always told you some accident would happen. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. " "Ay, but he will. 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.
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