When I was a little boy I did not, of course, trouble much about my appearance.

He who does not understand a joke, he does not understand Danish.

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

Birth was something that came quite unexpectedly, and afterwards there was one child more in the house.

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

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

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