Bazarov raised his head.
"Nay," he said, "I was but jesting. Never have I got myself into trouble, and never shall any woman do it for me. Amen! I have spoken. Never will you hear from me another word on the subject."
For a while the two friends lay without speaking.
"Yes," continued Bazarov, "man is a strange being. Contemplating from a distance the dull life led by my parents, one would almost feel inclined to say to oneself: 'What could be better than that, seeing that in that existence one merely eats and drinks and knows oneself to be acting in a sane and regular manner?' Yet a man will still become depressed, and yearn for company, even though he may curse it when he has got it."
"One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it shall be of significance," said Arkady sententiously.
"Of course; but while the significant, and even the pseudo-significant—yes, the absolutely insignificant as well—may be bearable, it is trifles, trifles that matter."
"Unless a man recognise their existence, they do not exist."
"H'm! A contra-platitude."
"What is that?"
"This—that, should you say that education is useful, you will be uttering a platitude; but, should you say that education is harmful, you will be uttering a contra-platitude. The one is identical with the other, except that they differ a little in elegance of expression."