“It is not such a very dreadful circumstance that we are odd people, is it? For we really are odd, you know⁠—careless, reckless, easily wearied of anything. We don’t look thoroughly into matters⁠—don’t care to understand things. We are all like this⁠—you and I, and all of them! Why, here are you, now⁠—you are not a bit angry with me for calling you ‘odd,’ are you? And, if so, surely there is good material in you? Do you know, I sometimes think it is a good thing to be odd. We can forgive one another more easily, and be more humble. No one can begin by being perfect⁠—there is much one cannot understand in life at first. In order to attain to perfection, one must begin by failing to understand much. And if we take in knowledge too quickly, we very likely are not taking it in at all. I say all this to you⁠—you who by this time understand so much⁠—and doubtless have failed to understand so much, also. I am not afraid of you any longer. You are not angry that a mere boy should say such words to you, are you? Of course not! You know how to forget and to forgive. You are laughing, Ivan Petrovitch? You think I am a champion of other classes of people⁠—that I am their