Experience is never limited and it is never complete; it is an immense sensibility, a kind of huge spider's web of the finest silken threads, suspended in the chambers of consciouness and cathing every air-borne particle in its tissue. It is the atmosphere of the mind; and when the mind is imaginative - more so when it happens to be that of a man, woman - it takes to itself the faintest hints of life, it converts the very pulse of the air into revelations.
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