And for many years, that was the way it was. 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. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. The boat was set free, and the men resumed their seats. I did so. Come home alone.
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