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. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. . Only first you must find the lantern and light it again and leave it here, near the door, for me to find. So he was forced to shift and proceed at another angle, forgetting his promise to McClintock to be temperate.
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