DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.

MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.

SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]

DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter
Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego breaks in two: you
begin to think of yourself in the third person.

SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have
known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the Department
of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never
had any experiences. You are satiated with life, and that is why you
have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why
I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.

DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five
and regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my
saying so, trifling.

MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a dragging
step] My foot has gone to sleep.

DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.

SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.

DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.