Sanine took no notice of him, but, turning to Yourii, said:
“Do you really believe that you can get a conception of life from any book?”
“Most certainly I do,” replied Yourii, in a tone of surprise.
“Then you are wrong,” said Sanine. “If this were really so, one could mould the whole of humanity according to one type by giving people works to read of one tendency. A conception of life is only obtained from life itself, in its entirety, of which literature and human thought are but an infinitesimal part. No theory of life can help one to such a conception, for this depends upon the mood or frame of mind of each individual, which is consequently apt to vary so long as man lives. Thus, it is impossible to form such a hard and fast conception of life as you seem anxious to …”
“How do you mean—‘impossible’?” cried Yourii angrily.
Sanine again looked bored, as he answered:
“Of course it’s impossible. If a conception of life were the outcome of a complete, definite theory, then the progress of human thought would soon be arrested; in fact it would cease. But such a thing is inadmissible. Every moment of life speaks its new word, its new message to us, and, to this we must listen and understand it, without first of all fixing limits for ourselves. After all, what’s the good of discussing it? Think what you like. I would merely ask why you, who have read hundreds of books from Ecclesiastes to Marx, have not yet been able to form any definite conception of life?”
“Why do you suppose that I have not?” asked Yourii, and his dark eyes flashed menacingly. “Perhaps my conception of life may be a wrong one, but I have it.”
“Very well, then,” said Sanine, “why seek to acquire another?”
Pistzoff tittered.