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. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them. She was weeping now. ” She rose up.
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