About the book: year / "...At one o'clock in the morning he returned to his office. He sent out a servant, who lit the candles, and, throwing himself into a chair near the fireplace, covered his face with both hands. Never before had he felt such fatigue - physical and mental. He spent the whole evening with pleasant ladies and educated men; some of the ladies were beautiful, almost all the men were distinguished by their intelligence and talents - he himself spoke very successfully and even brilliantly... and, with all that, never before that “taedium vitae”, which the Romans already spoke about, that “disgust for life” - with such irresistible force did not take possession of him, did not choke him. If he had been a little younger, he would have cried from melancholy, from boredom, from irritation: an acrid and burning bitterness, like the bitterness of wormwood, filled his entire soul. Something persistently hateful, disgustingly heavy surrounded him on all sides, like a dark autumn night; and he did not know how to get rid of this darkness, this bitterness. There was no hope of sleep: he knew that he would not fall asleep…»