Anton Chekhov

“ I am not a student and not a village schoolmaster. All that's mere invention! I used to be in the Russian choir, and I was turned out of it for drunkenness. But what can I do? Believe me, in God's name, I can't get on without lying—when I tell the truth no one will give me anything. With the truth one may die of hunger and freeze without a night's lodging! What you say is true, I understand that, but . . . what am I to do?"
"What are you to do? You ask what are you to do?" cried Skvortsov, going close up to him. "Work—that's what you must do! You must work!" ”

“ You always find some justification! Wouldn't you like to chop wood?"
"I would not refuse to, but the regular woodchoppers are out of work now."
"Oh, all idlers argue like that! As soon as you are offered anything you refuse it. Would you care to chop wood for me?"
"Certainly I will. . ."
"Very good, we shall see. . . . Excellent. We'll see!" Skvortsov, in nervous haste; and not without malignant pleasure, rubbing his hands, summoned his cook from the kitchen.
"Here, Olga," he said to her, "take this gentleman to the shed and let him chop some wood." ”

“ You have become false and corrupt to the marrow of your bones and fit for nothing but begging and lying! If you do graciously condescend to take work, you must have a job in an office, in the Russian choir, or as a billiard-marker, where you will have a salary and have nothing to do! ”