He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. ’ ‘But I am not stopping you from carrying on your business. Kneebone's. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. 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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