Leo Tolstoy. Sunday (№ 79620)

The difference between him, as he was then and what he was now, was enormous. Then he was cheerful, a free man, before whom opened endless possibilities; now he felt from all sides caught in the snares of silly, idle, aimless, miserable life, from which he saw no way out, Yes even for the most part and didn't want to leave. He remembered how once prided himself on his directness, as he set himself once a rule always to speak the truth and really was true and how he now was all a lie - in the most terrible of lies that are accepted by all people, surrounding him, true. And it was not from this lie, at least he didn't see out of that lie no way out. And it has pollution in it, got used to it, luxuriated in it.