By Leo Tolstoy.
(Why now then I understand how solid Tolstoy is?! Absurd, I am)
“Gerasim did everything easily, willingly, simply, and with a goodness of heart that moved Ivan Ilyich.” “Gerasim was the only one who did not lie, everything that he did showed that he alone understood what was happening, saw no need to conceal it, and simply pitied his feeble, wasted master.”
“What if my entire life, my entire conscious life, simply was not the real thing?” “What is the real thing?”
To his wife: “Not the real thing. Everything you lived by and still live by is a lie, a deception that blinds you from the reality of life and death.”
Please, give me truth.