I take more than their blood, John. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. 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. " With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. “Was it terrible for you after he died?” “Don’t worry yourself about it John.
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