The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight. He stepped back further. 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. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it.
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