I am a sick man... I am an angry man. I am an unattractive man. I think there is something wrong with my liver. But I don't understand the least thing about my illness, and I don't know for certain what part of me is affected. I am not having any treatment for it, and never have had, although I have great respect for medicine and for doctors. I am also very superstitious, if only in my respect for medicine. (I am well educated, though not well educated enough to be superstitious, but superstitious I am.) No, I refuse treatment out of spite. I can't of course explain who my spite is directed at. I achieve nothing by not seeking treatment, I harm nobody but myself. All the same, if I don't have treatment it is out of spite. Is my liver out of order? Good for it! Let it get worse!
Dostoyevsky
Notes From Underground
Dostoyevsky
Notes From Underground