"Of course; that is to say, as much as is the share of a small
man," said Foma's interlocutor irresolutely.
"Well, and you have no right to ask of Him a single grain more!
Make your own life by your own reason. And God will judge you. We
are all in His service. And in His eyes we are all of equal
value. Understand?"
It happened very often that Foma would suddenly say something
which seemed audacious even to himself, and which, at the same
time, elevated him in his own eyes. There were certain
unexpected, daring thoughts and words, which suddenly flashed
like sparks, as though an impression produced them from Foma's
brains. And he noticed more than once that whatever he had
carefully thought out beforehand was expressed by him not quite
so well, and more obscure, than that which suddenly flashed up in
his heart.
Foma lived as though walking in a swamp, in danger of sinking at
each step in the mire and slime, while his godfather, like a
river loach, wriggled himself on a dry, firm little spot,
vigilantly watching the life of his godson from afar.
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