\" Michelle drifted into a reverie. Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. The castle stood on the main island which connected to the mainland by a foreboding stone and wooden bridge. He told some of the particulars. In a sense I don’t care. ‘You have rifled his papers. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection. Brendon made a quick movement forward. 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. It isn’t illusions—for us. ‘Jacques?’ she called. “Oh, damn!” he said.
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