Fyodor Dostoevsky. Notes from the underground (№ 437166)

We are even weary of being human beings, human beings with a real, own body and blood; we are ashamed of this, we consider it a disgrace and strive to be some kind of unprecedented common people. We are stillborn, and besides, we have been born for a long time not from living fathers, and we like this more and more. We get into the taste. Soon we will invent to be born somehow from an idea.