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I am now but in Solitude--to the tumult of wounded sensibility & mortified pride, a kind of misanthropy succeeds in my Soul I no longer wish for Society, nor could I now be gratified by consideration.--The forms of Life fatigue me, --& the necessity of finding suitable conversation is an [[underline]] insupportable [[/underline]] toil.-- more than deprived of the delight of Society, I am the Slave of its Evils
