AT THAT TIME I was only twenty-four. My life was even then gloomy,
ill-regulated, and as solitary as that of a savage. I made friends
with no one and positively avoided talking, and buried myself more and
more in my hole. At work in the office I never looked at anyone, and
was perfectly well aware that my companions looked upon me, not only as
a queer fellow, but even looked upon me--I always fancied this--with a
sort of loathing. I sometimes wondered why it was that nobody except
me fancied that he was looked upon with aversion?
Fyodr Dostoevsky
ill-regulated, and as solitary as that of a savage. I made friends
with no one and positively avoided talking, and buried myself more and
more in my hole. At work in the office I never looked at anyone, and
was perfectly well aware that my companions looked upon me, not only as
a queer fellow, but even looked upon me--I always fancied this--with a
sort of loathing. I sometimes wondered why it was that nobody except
me fancied that he was looked upon with aversion?
Fyodr Dostoevsky
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