Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. ” “Upon my word,” he declared, “you are right. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through.
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