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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"And it's insulting, insulting! I understand you. But... since we
have spoken openly now (and it is an excellent thing that we have
at last--I am glad) I will own now frankly that I noticed it in
them long ago, this idea. Of course the merest hint only--an
insinuation--but why an insinuation even? How dare they? What
foundation have they? If only you knew how furious I have been.
Think only! Simply because a poor student, unhinged by poverty
and hypochondria, on the eve of a severe delirious illness (note
that), suspicious, vain, proud, who has not seen a soul to speak
to for six months, in rags and in boots without soles, has to
face some wretched policemen and put up with their insolence; and
the unexpected debt thrust under his nose, the I.O.U.

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