I, who boast that I so curiously and particularly embrace the conveniences of life, find them, when I most nearly consider them, very little more than wind. But what? We are all wind throughout; and, moreover, the wind itself, more discreet than we, loves to bluster and shift from corner to corner, and contents itself with its proper offices without desiring stability and solidity-qualities not its own.
Lugar: CHAPTER XIII · ¶5325 Licença: Public domain · Fonte O texto é dado como na edição, sem alterações.