Fyodor Dostoevsky,
Poor Folk — June 28
“ You ought not so to act, my friend, even though you write that you would rather sell your all than let me want for anything. I believe in you, my friend--I entirely believe in your good heart; but, you say that to me now (when, perhaps, you have received some unexpected sum or gratuity) and there is still the future to be thought of. You yourself know that I am always ailing--that I cannot work as you do, glad though I should be of any work if I could get it; so what else is there for me to do? To sit and repine as I watch you and Thedora? ”
