She grabs my hand, my hand is cold. "I can't see you die, work no more." I say nothing. I can't feel my feet, they're cold. Am I dying?... When you left me, I cried and it felt good. I wanna die alone, I don't wanna die with you.
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*** From "Notes from Underground"
"I could not become anything; neither good nor bad; neither a scoundrel nor an honest man; neither a hero nor an insect. And now I am eking out my days in my corner, taunting myself with the bitter and entirely useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot seriously become anything, that only a fool can become something."
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