“Oh, I should dearly like to live again!” he exclaimed with an extraordinary rush of energy. “Every minute, every instant of life ought to be a blessing to man⁠ ⁠… they ought to be, they certainly ought to be! It’s the duty of man to make it so; that’s the law of his nature, which always exists even if hidden.⁠ ⁠… Oh, I wish I could see Petrusha⁠ ⁠… and all of them⁠ ⁠… Shatov⁠ ⁠…”

I may remark that as yet no one had heard of Shatov’s fate⁠—not Varvara Petrovna nor Darya Pavlovna, nor even Salzfish, who was the last to come from the town.

Stepan Trofimovitch became more and more excited, feverishly so, beyond his strength.