fool, and I've insulted him again," he said quietly.
"Yes, you've insulted him again," Kirillov jerked out, "and besides, he's not a fool." "I've done all I can, anyway." "No." "What ought I to have done ?" "Not have challenged him." "Accept another blow in the face ?" "Yes, accept another." "I can't understand anything now," said Stavrogin wrathfully.

"Why does every one expect of me something not expected from anyone else?
Why am I to put up with what no one else puts up with, and undertake burdens no one else can bear ?" "I thought you were seeking a burden yourself." "I seek a burden ?" "Yes." "You've...

seen that ?" "Yes." "Is it so noticeable ?" "Yes." There was silence for a moment.

Stavrogin had a very preoccupied face.
He was almost impressed.
"I didn't aim because I didn't want to kill anyone.

There was nothing more in it, I assure you," he said hurriedly, and with agitation, as though justifying himself.
"You ought not to have offended him." "What ought I to have done then ?" "You ought to have killed him." "Are you sorry I didn't kill him ?" "I'm not sorry for anything.