What to do here? What dream? What build? So you tell me that life is fun, that you walk towards a goal and tormented you for anything! I could not find anything that was worthy of me, I was not suitable for anything. Working, sacrificing everything to an idea, a miserable and vulgar ambition, to have a place, a name? And then? To what end? After all I was interested in the glory, even the most blatant I have not met since was not in unison with my heart.
(from November of Gustave Flaubert)
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