Fyodor Dostoevsky. Idiot (№ 204367)

Let him who falls into the hands of my “Explanation” and who will become the patience to read it, consider me for a madman, or even a student, but rather just sentenced to death, which of course began to feel that all people except him, life is not too dear, too cheap got into the habit of spending it, too lazy, too shameless it is used, and therefore, every one of them unworthy of her! And what? I declare that my reader is wrong again, for my convictions have nothing to do with my death sentence. Ask, ask them just how they all, all of them, you know, what is happiness?