Dostoevsky preaches the morality of the pariah, the morality of the slave.

But I did not find any positive inspiration in my studies until I approached my nineteenth year.

Any feeling that I was enriching my mind from those surrounding me was unfortunately rare with me.

Six hours a day I lived under school discipline in active intercourse with people none of whom were known to those at home, and the other hours of the twenty-four I spent at home, or with relatives of the people at home, none of whom were known to anybody at school.

It was jolly in the country. A cow and little pigs to play with and milk warm from the cow.

I encountered among my comrades the most varied human traits, from frankness to reserve, from goodness, uprightness and kindness, to brutality and baseness.

The stream of time sweeps away errors, and leaves the truth for the inheritance of humanity.