Fyodor Dostoevsky. Idiot (№ 204892)

Eternal life I suppose and maybe always allowed. Let consciousness is kindled by the will of a higher power, let it looked at the world and said, "I am!", and let him suddenly prescribed this higher power to be destroyed, because there is so much for something, and even without explaining what is necessary, even, I suppose, but then again the eternal question: what if this needed humility is mine? Surely I cannot just eat without demanding that I praise the fact that I ate? Is there really anyone will be offended by the fact that I don't want to wait two weeks? I do not believe it; and rather too much to assume that there just needed my insignificant life, the life of the atom, for the replenishment of some universal harmony as a whole, a plus and minus, for any contrast, and so on and so forth, just the same as every day would need to sacrifice the lives of many creatures without dying to the rest of the world can't stand (although it should be noted that this is not a very generous thought in itself). But let! I agree that otherwise, that is, without continuous poedanie each other, to arrange the world there was no way; I'm even willing to admit that nothing about this device; but that's what I know for certain: If I have once been given to understand that "I am", what do I care about what the world is with full of errors and that otherwise he can't stand? Who and what I then to judge?