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. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. He has taken more than one step towards the gallows already. Neither the manners, the looks, nor the attire of these gentlemen prepossessed Mrs. How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral 435 XXVII.
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