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 stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. With your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil you are dumb and blind. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. come. But, by Jove! it’s going to make our loving a fiercely abstract thing. Forgive my daring. “Beasts!” But Miss Miniver took no notice of his admission.
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