Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. You should go home today and get some rest. 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. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it.
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This video was uploaded to uggpascherfo.com on 19-09-2024 10:00:50
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