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In prayer, we stand where angels bow with veiled faces. There, even there, the cherubim and seraphim adore before that selfsame throne to which our prayers ascend. And shall we come there with stunted requests and narrow, contracted faith?
Call it Nature Fate Fortune all these are names of the one and selfsame God.
No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
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