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He replied, "With them, I guess."
"Do you believe in all that they stand for?"
He looked embarrassed, "Not everything, but much of it makes sense much of the time."
"Their history is written in the blood of innocents, the paths to their monuments paved in tiny, toothless, skulls. Later, when I stand against you, remember that you chose; and why."
I shook his hand, turned, and strode away hoping that we would not meet again.
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