Fyodor Dostoevsky. Diary of a writer (№ 423403)

And now, now... right, you don't know how to define our current architecture. There is some kind of carelessness, absolutely, however, corresponding to the carelessness of the present minute. This is a set of extremely high (the first case of high) houses for tenants, extremely, they say, thin-walled and sparsely built, with amazing architecture facades: here and Rastrelli, here and the later Rococo, Dozhev balconies and windows, certainly ol-de-beufs and certainly five floors, and all this in the same facade. "Dozhevskoe window you me, brother, put irretred, because I'm worse than some of their naked doge; well, five floors you still take me out the tenants to let in; window window, and floors to floors; I can't decide because of the toys of all our capital."