What things we do, he whispered in shame, such shame, what things we men do. Across the great clutch of history there lay in every corner cinders of some chauvinist sacrament. All will be rent to ruin beneath our banners, he thought.
“Wise is the man who disdains no character, but with searching glance explores him to the root and cause of all.”
Nikolai Gogol | Dead Souls
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