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The butterfly was buffeted and jostled by the wind. “If I don't touch down soon”, he thought, “this breeze will be my end! How foolish all this gossamer! This high-falootin’ floss! I seldom go from A to B without being blown off course. In fact, my life seems fruitless - just a flash in some small pan. What difference do I make - a flitting, floating, fleeting fan? |