“A man who lies to himself, and believes his own lies becomes unable to recognize truth, either in himself or in anyone else, and he ends up losing respect for himself and for others. When he has no respect for anyone, he can no longer love, and, in order to divert himself, having no love in him, he yields to his impulses, indulges in the lowest forms of pleasure, and behaves in the end like an animal. And it all comes from lying - lying to others and to yourself.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky
As they barreled along in the subway Alexander turned to Sammy and asked “who are your heroes?”
“Like me personally?”
“Societal. In my age there were Achilles, Odysseus, Ajax and so many more. I want to know who the new heroes are.”
“Those are Greek dudes right?”
“Yes.” Alexander said disdainfully.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me cus I ain’t super booky?”
“I assume that means you don’t read much.”
“The last time I picked up a book was like third grade man. I live in the streets.”
“You have no place of domicile?”
“Dom a what?”
“A dwelling. A place where you sleep.”
“You take things too literally. I’m just sayin I was always roaming the streets. I had an apartment. It was small, so I spent as much time as possible outside in the city.”
“Who are the heroes of your age?” Alexander asked trying to get the conversation back on track.”
“I don’t know man. Everyone is so divided these days.” Sammy hedged as he looked around the subway to see who might be listening.
“Do you know of the Trojan War?”
“That’s the one with the horse. Right?”
“I have much to ...
