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“How do I know? Man is like a novel: up to the last page you don’t know what the end will be. It wouldn’t be worth reading otherwise.”
An absurd feeling yet it was there; I really must! Absurd, because this “duty” of mine was nothing but another crime. Absurd, because white and black cannot be one, duty and crime cannot coincide. Or perhaps there is no black and white in life, but everything depends upon the first logical premise?
