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“Shall I have to go there ten years hence to keep my old bones warm against the rheumatism and to scorch my bald pate in the heat of the noonday sun? Shall I die without having seen anything?” — Fyodor Dostoevsky
Shall I have to go there ten years hence to keep my old bones warm against the rheumatism and to scorch my bald pate in the heat of the noonday sun?
Shall I die without having seen anything?