irts of the town. My servant is an old country- woman, ill-natured from stupidity, and, moreover, there is always a nasty smell about her. I am told that the Petersburg climate is bad for me, and that with my small means it is very expensive to live in Petersburg. I know all that better than all these sage and experienced counsellors and monitors. ... But I am remaining in Petersburg; I am not going away from Petersburg! I am not going away because ... ech! Why, it is absolutely no matter whether I am going away or not going away.
But what can a decent man speak of with most pleasure?
Answer: Of himself.
Well, so I will talk about myself.
I want now to tell you, gentlemen, whether you care to hear it or not, why I could not even become an insect. I tell you solemnly, that I have many times tried to become an insect. But I was not equal even to that. I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness--a real thorough-going illness. For man's everyday needs, it would ha
I believe you mean 'bore,' Carl. No wonder you found this fascinating, witty and humorous piece of literature a bit higher than your normal reading level.
I found this book to be a boar. The ravings of a lonely, pompous man who is totally immature.
A little correction Bobby.
It will enlighten only the most intelligent reader.
This is one of the darkest and most stimulating books I have ever read; a masterpiece. Not for everyone, but if you are introspective and have exprienced a lot of darkness this will enlighten even the most intelligent of reader!