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Fire them all -your fears-

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his

Hello, New Yorker

At intervals, he would refer to piles of old log-books beside him. You would have seen him go to a locker in the transom,

Make it beautiful, but make it

But it was not this night in particular that, in the solitude of his cabin, Ahab thus pondered over his charts. Almost every night
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