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Robert Morriss Browning correspondence to Mabel C. Williams, October 1917

1917-10-27 Robert M. Browning to Mavel C. Williams Page 2

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may at some time cause me to take a deeper interest in said doings myself. You may know the feeling, - if not from experience by observation, - that "nothing makes any difference anyway; everything is going wrong; life is short and not very sweet at best; any individual is just so much junk assembled out of the infinite chaos and will be whirled back into it in a moment whether or no." Such a mood is not my usual one, I hasten to say, nor is it, nor was it, in such a mood that I defend Kipling's "great god Nick O' Teen". But it is to such a mood that I refer in the sentence at the top of this page. At such times, happily very infrequent, I know that the interest of my friends will be helpful. I didn't say my visit was "as satisfactory as I could expect." I said, or meant, anyway, "as I should reasonably have expected." That is altogether something else. You know I'm not nearly so reason-able as one should expect one to be who has had five university years, three in the reading of psychology and philosophy. To
 
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