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Thus, my gentleman, not knowing what to do with his hands, was compelled to spend the evening stroking his whiskers. His whiskers were really fine, but he stroked them so assiduously that one got the feeling that the whiskers had come into the world first and afterwards the man in order to stroke them.
- Fyodor Dostoevsky, ‘The Christmas Tree and the Wedding’ (1848) in Best Russian Short Stories [full text]
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