'...The charming mystery of strangers! There is in all of us a wayward lyric germ, a germ bright and active with the hopes of the God that made man in his own image. And he who does not respect this germ within him shall surely kill it and be left empty evermore, for this is the germ that bids us linger and ponder and create, that feels the stir of beauty, that respects the future, the unknown, the stranger.'
from Lily Christine by Michael Arlen (Chapter II)
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