But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall soon cease to be - a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself.
Mary Shelley 1797-1851
It is strange to observe that considering the odds of gambles and coincidence, we might be fools to persist. Nevertheless, once in a while you have to tread the steps which might lead to a self righteous demise whereas the measure of the will might falter and succumb.
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