Weird! At 3:32 am this morning, President Donald J. Trump tweeted, then quickly deleted, the following:
"'Well, if you need it . . . I . . . ,' Mitya muttered, and having sat down on the bed, he began taking his socks off. He felt unbearably awkward: everyone else was dressed, and he was undressed, and—strangely—undressed, he himself seemed to feel guilty before them, and, above all, he was almost ready to agree that he had indeed suddenly become lower than all of them, and that they now had every right to despise him. 'If everyone is undressed, it's not shameful, but when only one is undressed and the others are all looking—it's a disgrace!' flashed again and again through his mind. 'It's like a dream, I've dreamed of being disgraced like this.' But to take his socks off was even painful for him: they were not very clean, nor were his underclothes, and now everyone could see it. And above all he did not like his own feet; all his life for some reason he had found both his big toes ugly, especially the right one with its crude, flat toenail, somehow curved under, and now they would all see it. This unbearable shame suddenly made him, deliberately now, even more rude. He tore his shirt off.
'Would you like to look anywhere else, if you're not ashamed to?'"
"'Well, if you need it . . . I . . . ,' Mitya muttered, and having sat down on the bed, he began taking his socks off. He felt unbearably awkward: everyone else was dressed, and he was undressed, and—strangely—undressed, he himself seemed to feel guilty before them, and, above all, he was almost ready to agree that he had indeed suddenly become lower than all of them, and that they now had every right to despise him. 'If everyone is undressed, it's not shameful, but when only one is undressed and the others are all looking—it's a disgrace!' flashed again and again through his mind. 'It's like a dream, I've dreamed of being disgraced like this.' But to take his socks off was even painful for him: they were not very clean, nor were his underclothes, and now everyone could see it. And above all he did not like his own feet; all his life for some reason he had found both his big toes ugly, especially the right one with its crude, flat toenail, somehow curved under, and now they would all see it. This unbearable shame suddenly made him, deliberately now, even more rude. He tore his shirt off.
'Would you like to look anywhere else, if you're not ashamed to?'"
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