More insects in Dostoyevsky

“This was a regular martyrdom, a continual, intolerable humiliation at the thought, which passed into an incessant and direct sensation, that I was a mere fly in the eyes of all this world, a nasty, disgusting fly—more intelligent, more highly developed, more refined in feeling than any of them, of course— but a fly that was continually making way for everyone, insulted and injured by everyone”. Dostoyevsky. Notes from the Underground