Yozhov looked at Foma searchingly with his eyes half closed, and he said: "Connecting your question with everything you jabbered last night, I feel within my troubled soul that you, too, my friend, do not amuse yourself because life is cheerful to you." "Eh!" sighed Foma, heavily, rising from the lounge.

"What is my life?
It is something meaningless.

I live alone.

I understand nothing.

And yet there is something I long for.