Wilson adventured for the whole of the human race. Not as a servant, but as a champion. So pure was this motive, so unfrocked with anything that his worst enemies could find, except the mildest and most excusable, a personal vanity, practically the minimum to be human, that in a sense his adventure is that of humanity itself. In Wilson, the whole of mankind breaks camp, sets out from home and wrestles with the universe and its gods.
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He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict with difficulty helps us to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be superficial.
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He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist in our helper.
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He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper.
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He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper
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