I have, in a way, fulfilled the purpose that my English tutor created in me.

I've grown a sort of quiet skin, you know, but under that skin the heart pounds away, the veins swell to bursting.

I'm a fool behind it all--just a fool as every Russian is a fool with more in hand than he knows how to deal with.

You don't understand Russia, do you?
No, and I don't and no one does.

But we can all talk about her--and love her too, if you like, although our sentiment's a bad thing in us, some say.