"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. Wild's. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. We have seen pitted cheeks, which we would not exchange for dimples and a satin skin. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven.
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