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... ved at, and would soon arrive at, that hell.

For him, the word “hell” meant every moment he was alive at this very moment, living his own life.

Precisely because of this, he didn’t particularly like his life.

He had always been a lonely man.

In his view, there was nothing beautiful in the world.

Nothing eternal existed in this world.

Even if a machine were made entirely of steel, the truth was that the more it was used, the more it wore out—an ines ...

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