Alas! I have no culture.

I've ruined all.

Believe me, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, here first I have recovered from shameful propensities--not a glass nor a drop! I have a home, and for six days past I have experienced a conscience at ease.

Even the walls smell of resin and remind me of nature.

And what have I been; what was I?
'At night without a bed I wander And my tongue put out by day...' to use the words of a poet of genius.