Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. That boy was the carpenter's apprentice, Jack Sheppard. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. 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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