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How could my heart avoid submission?



I began to see— 

The map of my life’s mansion which I had in my mind since my childhood. To lay its foundation the august date had been determined. Then how could I sleep more? 

Now when the aroma of my sensibilities began to invite me, how could I resist? 
How could my heart avoid submission? 
How could my process of respiration keep itself so smooth? 
How could my own blood avoid being converted into sweet syrup to quench my thirst?`
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