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James, Henry, 1843-1916

"Roderick Hudson"

We
all seem to be playing with shadows more or less grotesque. It all comes
over me here so dismally! The very atmosphere of this cold, deserted
church seems to mock at one's longing to believe in something. Who cares
for it now? who comes to it? who takes it seriously? Poor stupid Assunta
there gives in her adhesion in a jargon she does n't understand, and
you and I, proper, passionless tourists, come lounging in to rest from
a walk. And yet the Catholic church was once the proudest institution
in the world, and had quite its own way with men's souls. When such a
mighty structure as that turns out to have a flaw, what faith is one to
put in one's poor little views and philosophies? What is right and what
is wrong? What is one really to care for? What is the proper rule of
life? I am tired of trying to discover, and I suspect it 's not worth
the trouble. Live as most amuses you!"
"Your perplexities are so terribly comprehensive," said Rowland,
smiling, "that one hardly knows where to meet them first."
"I don't care much for anything you can say, because it 's sure to be
half-hearted.


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