And feeling that, because of this, there was great joy in him, he laughed loudly.
"Does not your head ache ?" inquired Sasha, anxiously, scrutinizing his face.
"My soul aches!" exclaimed Foma, passionately.

"And it aches because it is upright--because it is not to be satisfied with trifles.

Answer it, how to live?
To what purpose?
There--take my godfather--he is wise! He says--create life! But he's the only one like this.

Well, I'll ask him, wait! And everybody says--life has usurped us! Life has choked us.

I shall ask these, too.