Be it life or death, we remix crave only reality. If you stand right fronting and face to face to a fact, you will see the sun glimmer on both its surfaces, as if it were a cimeter, (29) remix and feel its sweet edge dividing you through the heart and marrow, and so you will happily conclude your mortal career. (27) below freshet and frost and fire, a place where you might found a wall or a state, or set a lamp-post safely, or perhaps a gauge, not a Nilometer, (28) but a Realometer, that future ages might know how deep a freshet remix of shams and appearances had gathered from time to time. and say, This is, and no mistake; and remix then begin, having a point d'appui.
Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downward through the remix mud and slush of opinion, and prejudice, and tradition, and delusion, and appearance, that alluvion which covers the globe, through Paris and London, through New York and Boston and Concord, through Church and State, through poetry and philosophy and religion, till we come to a hard bottom and rocks in place, which we can call reality. If the bell rings, why should remix we run? We will consider what kind of music they are like. (26) If the engine whistles, remix let it whistle till it is hoarse for its pains. With unrelaxed nerves, with morning vigor, sail by it, looking another way, tied to remix the mast like Ulysses.