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Twain, Mark, 1835-1910

"The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories"

'
'She merely imagined she felt a pain--the cat?'
'She cannot imagine a pain, for imagination is an effect of mind; without
mind, there is no imagination. A cat has no imagination.'
'Then she had a real pain?'
'I have already told you there is no such thing as real pain.'
'It is strange and interesting. I do wonder what was the matter with the
cat. Because, there being no such thing as real pain, and she not being
able to imagine an imaginary thing, it would seem that God in his Pity
has compensated the cat with some kind of a mysterious emotion useable
when her tail is trodden on which for the moment joins cat and Christian
in one common brotherhood of--'
She broke in with an irritated--
'Peace! The cat feels nothing, the Christian feels nothing. Your empty
and foolish imaginings are profanation and blasphemy, and can do you an
injury. It is wiser and better and holier to recognise and confess that
there is no such thing as disease or pain or death.'
'I am full of imaginary tortures,' I said, 'but I do not think I could be
any more uncomfortable if they were real ones.


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