The latter were saved; but of the former nothing but the blackened stone walls were found standing on the morrow. Vite, I pray you. But I liked to say it. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. 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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