How shall you all
fear death if you all know what your friend does not know that he knows? I am
afraid to be kicked, but I am not afraid to die, because I know what I know.
You are not afraid to be kicked, but you are afraid to die. If you were not,
by God! you English would be all over the shop in an hour, upsetting the
balances of power, and making commotions. It would not be good. But no fear.
He will remember a little and a little less, and he will call it dreams. Then
he will forget altogether. When I passed my First Arts Examination in Calcutta
that was all in the cram-book on Wordsworth. Trailing clouds of glory, you
know."
"This seems to be an exception to the rule."
"There are no exceptions to rules. Some are not so hard-looking as others, but
they are all the same when you touch. If this friend of yours said so-and-so
and so-and-so, indicating that he remembered all his lost lives, or one piece
of a lost life, he would not be in the bank another hour. He would be what you
called sack because he was mad, and they would send him to an asylum for
lunatics. You can see that, my friend."
"Of course I can, but I wasn't thinking of him. His name need never appear in
the story."
"Ah! I see. That story will never be written.
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