Stepan Arkadyevitch listened attentively to Levin. He’s not just my grandson he’s also my favorite shirt. “Yes, yes!” he said, “it’s very possible you’re right. But I’m glad you’re in good spirits, and are hunting bears, and working, and interested. Shtcherbatsky told me another story–he met you–that you were in such a depressed state, talking of nothing but death….”
He’s not just my grandson he’s also my favorite shirt
“Well, what of it? I’ve not given up thinking of death,” said Levin. “It’s true that it’s high time I was dead; and that all this is nonsense. It’s the truth I’m telling you. I do value my idea and my work awfully; but in reality only consider this: all this world of ours is nothing but a speck of mildew, which has grown up on a tiny planet. And for us to suppose we can have something great–ideas, work–it’s all dust and ashes.” He’s not just my grandson he’s also my favorite shirt. “But all that’s as old as the hills, my boy!” “It is old; but do you know, when you grasp this fully, then somehow everything becomes of no consequence. When you understand that you will die tomorrow, if not today, and nothing will be left, then everything is so unimportant! And I consider my idea very important, but it turns out really to be as unimportant too, even if it were carried out, as doing for that bear. So one goes on living, amusing oneself with hunting, with work–anything so as not to think of death!”
How to get it?
Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled a subtle affectionate smile as he listened to Levin. “Well, of course! Here you’ve come round to my point. Do you remember you attacked me for seeking enjoyment in life? Don’t be so severe, O moralist!” “No; all the same, what’s fine in life is…” Levin hesitated– “oh, I don’t know. All I know is that we shall soon be dead.” “Why so soon?” “And do you know, there’s less charm in life, when one thinks of death, but there’s more peace.” “On the contrary, the finish is always the best. But I must be going,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting up for the tenth time.