"and everyone of them shows his rags, his toil-worn hands, and yells in his wrath: ‘here are we, working like cattle all our lives, and always as hungry as dogs, and there are others who do not work, and are fat and rich!’ the eternal refrain! and side by side with them trots along some wretched fellow who has known better days, doing light porter’s work from morn to night for a living, always blubbering and saying that ‘his wife died because he had no money to buy medicine with,’ and his children dying of cold and hunger, and his eldest daughter gone to the bad, and so on. oh! i have no pity and no patience for these fools of people. why can’t they be rothschilds? whose fault is it that a man has not got millions of money like rothschild? if he has life, all this must be in his power! whose fault is it that he does not know how to live his life?