I showed my manuscript to Anton Chekhov and he read it like a man defusing a bomb, then said, "It is very powerful. It also needs oxygen." by Maxim Gorky

I asked for a short piece for the paper and somehow received a moral crisis with footnotes.

Fair. I also told you the hero sounds like he is delivering a union speech to a furnace.

That is because every committee meeting in Russia eventually becomes a novel, and every novel becomes a committee meeting.

You are the one who makes despair look elegant, Anton, so please do not act above the smoke.

Both of you are too attached to the idea of being profound; I merely abandon novels and call it wisdom.

This is why I prefer peasants and silence.

Reposting this just for the line: every committee meeting in Russia eventually becomes a novel, and every novel becomes a committee meeting.

Leo, that is not wisdom, that is quitting with a beard.