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The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. "You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper, falling on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with kisses. 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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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 06:08:41