"In the Apocalypse the angel swears that there will be no more time."
"I know.
That's very true; distinct and exact.
When all mankind attains happiness then there will be no more time, for there'll be no need of it, a very true thought."
"Where will they put it?"
"Nowhere.
Time's not an object but an idea.
It will be extinguished in the mind."
"The old commonplaces of philosophy, the same from the beginning of time," Stavrogin muttered with a kind of disdainful compassion.
"Always the same, always the same, from the beginning of time and never any other," Kirillov said with sparkling eyes, as though there were almost a triumph in that idea.
"You seem to be very happy, Kirillov."
"Yes, very happy," he answered, as though making the most ordinary reply.
"But you were distressed so lately, angry with Liputin."
"H'm... I'm not scolding now.
I didn't know then that I was happy.
Have you seen a leaf, a leaf from a tree?"
"Yes."
"I saw a yellow one lately, a little green. It was decayed at the edges.
It was blown by the wind.
When I was ten years old I used to shut my eyes in the winter on purpose and fancy a green leaf, bright, with veins on it, and the sun shining.
I used to open my eyes and not believe them, because it was very nice, and I used to shut them again."
"What's that? An allegory?"
"N-no... why?
I'm not speaking of an allegory, but of a leaf, only a leaf.
The leaf is good.
Everything's good."
"Everything?"
"Everything.
Man is unhappy because he doesn't know he's happy.
It's only that. That's all, that's all!
If anyone finds out he'll become happy at once, that minute.
That mother-in-law will die; but the baby will remain. It's all good.
I discovered it all of a sudden."
"And if anyone dies of hunger, and if anyone insults and outrages the little girl, is that good?"
"Yes!
And if anyone blows his brains out for the baby, that's good too. And if anyone doesn't, that's good too.
It's all good, all.
It's good for all those who know that it's all good.
If they knew that it was good for them, it would be good for them, but as long as they don't know it's good for them, it will be bad for them.
That's the whole idea, the whole of it."
"When did you find out you were so happy?"
"Last week, on Tuesday, no, Wednesday, for it was Wednesday by that time, in the night."
"By what reasoning?"
"I don't remember; I was walking about the room; never mind.
I stopped my clock. It was thirty-seven minutes past two."
"As an emblem of the fact that there will be no more time?"
Kirillov was silent.
"They're bad because they don't know they're good.
When they find out, they won't outrage a little girl.
They'll find out that they're good and they'll all become good, every one of them."