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The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. She too had seen. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. ” Michelle adjusted her heavy pack. “I should like to understand you,” he said. "He does," replied Kneebone, "and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase. “I believe that he would bore me. Try your luck with Jarvis Remenham—if you will. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. It is the immediate inspiration of confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal.
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