And the door was suddenly thrown open, and the two janizaries felled to the ground by the strong arm of the stalwart robber. 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 looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. From the first I could see that neither believed my story.
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