E-Books Home

"Why? Is it good?" asked Foma, looking at his godfather
suspiciously.
"We do not know what is good; but we can see what is wise. When we
see that all sorts of people are driven together in one place and
are all inspired there with one and the same idea--then must we
acknowledge that it is wise. Because--what is a man in the empire?
Nothing more than a simple brick, and all bricks must be of the
same size. Do you understand? And those people that are of equal
height and weight--I can place in any position I like."
"And whom does it please to be a brick?" said Foma, morosely.
"It is not a question of pleasing, it is a matter of fact. If you
are made of hard material, they cannot plane you. It is not
everybody's phiz that you can rub off. But some people, when beaten
with a hammer, turn into gold. And if the head happens to crack--
what can you do?It merely shows it was weak."
"He also spoke about toil. 'Everything,' he says, 'is done by
machinery, and thus are men spoiled."'
"He is out of his wits!" Mayakin waved his hand disdainfully.


Pages:
269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293