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作者: Leo Tolstoy

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"I don't suppose so," said Serpuhovskoy, smiling again. "I won't
say life wouldn't be worth living without it, but it would be
dull. Of course I may be mistaken, but I fancy I have a certain
capacity for the line I've chosen, and that power of any sort in
my hands, if it is to be, will be better than in the hands of a
good many people I know," said Serpuhovskoy, with beaming
consciousness of success; "and so the nearer I get to it, the
better pleased I am."
"Perhaps that is true for you, but not for everyone. I used to
think so too, but here I live and think life worth living not
only for that."
"There it's out! here it comes!" said Serpuhovskoy, laughing.
"Ever since I heard about you, about your refusal, I began.... Of
course, I approved of what you did. But there are ways of doing
everything. And I think your action was good in itself, but you
didn't do it quite in the way you ought to have done."

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