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. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs. "Heaven be praised she knows me at last. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. But suppose I go?” “Now, Veronica! No, no. He waved a hand toward the sea. ‘That is settled then. "No; I don't think I'd laugh.
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