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"Oh, man," murmured d'Avrigny, "the most selfish of all animals, the most personal of all creatures, who believes the earth turns, the sun shines, and death strikes for him alone,—an ant cursing God from the top of a blade of grass!
life is an eternal shipwreck of our hopes
Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather and call it is own."