'"
"They are superfluous people, then," said Foma. Yozhov stopped
short in front of him and said with a biting smile on his lips:
"No, they are not superfluous, oh no! They exist as an example,
to show what man ought not to be. Speaking frankly, their proper
place is the anatomical museums, where they preserve all sorts of
monsters and various sickly deviations from the normal. In life
there is nothing that is superfluous, dear. Even I am necessary!
Only those people, in whose souls dwells a slavish cowardice
before life, in whose bosoms there are enormous ulcers of the
most abominable self-adoration, taking the places of their dead
hearts--only those people are superfluous; but even they are
necessary, if only for the sake of enabling me to pour my hatred
upon them."
All day long, until evening, Yozhov was excited, venting his
blasphemy on men he hated, and his words, though their contents
were obscure to Foma, infected him with their evil heat, and
infecting called forth in him an eager desire for combat. At
times there sprang up in him distrust of Yozhov, and in one of
these moments he asked him plainly:
"Well! And can you speak like that in the face of men?"
"I do it at every convenient occasion.
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