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Well, who am I? he asked. |
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2019-11-18 10:48 |
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Well, who am I? he asked.
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I know it well; therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been superior to circumstances; so I should?so I should; but you see I was not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain cool: I turned desperate; then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself that I am better than he: I am forced to confess that he and I are on a level. I wish I had stood firm?God knows I do! Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.
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Burns made no answer: I wondered at her silence. Why, thought I, does she not explain that she could neither clean her nails nor wash her face, as the water was frozen?
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Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in with her soft, infantine tone: Louisa and I used to quiz our governess too; but she was such a good creature, she would bear anything: nothing put her out. She was never cross with us; was she, Louisa?
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Is your book interesting? I had already formed the intention of asking her to lend it to me some day.
Did I like his voice? he asked.
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Yes, said he, there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of an infallible Master. I am not going out under human guidance, subject to the defective laws and erring control of my feeble fellow-worms: my king, my lawgiver, my captain, is the All-perfect. It seems strange to me that all round me do not burn to enlist under the same banner,?to join in the same enterprise.
Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood and in London.
I care not in this moment sweet,
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