Indeed, we are but shadows; we are not endowed with real life, and all that seems most real about us is but the thinnest substance of a dream — till the heart be touched. That touch creates us — then we begin to be — thereby we are beings of reality... Memoir of Nathaniel Hawthorne, with stories [by N. Hawthorne] now first publ ... - Página 19 por Alexander Hay Japp - 1872 Vista completa -
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