Practice Typing
Notes from the Underground - Dostoyevsky, Fyodor ยท 67 words
Good Heavens, these are not the people for me. I thought. And what a fool I have made of myself before them. I let Ferfitchkin go too far, though. The brutes imagine they are doing me an honour in letting me sit down with them. They dont understand that its an honour to them and not to me. Ive grown thinner. My clothes. Oh, damn my trousers.
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