« leave us alone, without books, and we’d instantly trip up, get lost – we don’t know where to place our allegiance, what to hang on to; what to love and what to hate, what to respect and what to despise. we even find it difficult to be human beings- human beings with our own real flesh and blood; we’re ashamed of it, we consider it a disgrace and strive to be some kind of imaginary general type. »
– DOSTOEVSKY, notes from the underground