Practice Typing
Notes from the Underground - Dostoyevsky, Fyodor ยท 69 words
But do you know, gentlemen, what was the chief point about my spite. Why, the whole point, the real sting of it lay in the fact that continually, even in the moment of the acutest spleen, I was inwardly conscious with shame that I was not only not a spiteful but not even an embittered man, that I was simply scaring sparrows at random and amusing myself by it.
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