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Part I | Fyodor Dostoevsky | |
Chapter XI |
Page 3 of 3 |
Besides, I am bored, and I never have anything to do. Writing will be a sort of work. They say work makes man kind-hearted and honest. Well, here is a chance for me, anyway. Snow is falling today, yellow and dingy. It fell yesterday, too, and a few days ago. I fancy it is the wet snow that has reminded me of that incident which I cannot shake off now. And so let it be a story A PROPOS of the falling snow. |
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Notes from the Underground Fyodor Dostoevsky |
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