Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just had two days of eye tests.  My eyes are holding, but dilated eyes are no fun.  It makes me see the world through vaseline lenses.  Yet I am grateful, that there is a treatment that keeps the bleeds at bay, and for my compassionate doctors.  Yesterday, the retinal specialist, who does the injections when I need them discussed a class in Dostoyevsky and Russian psychology he'd taken and coincidentally I had also had a class reading all his works with a Nobel Winner in Literature.  I'm still a great admirer and have reread some of the novels.  When I was a teenager, I told friends I was going through my Doestoyevsky period, and my brother claimed he did too, and that it was my fault.  I think the author especially appeals to the turmoil of teenage angst, and also the overflow of feeling.  He keeps it complex.  Anyway, my eye doctor, after several minutes, laughed and said we know your eye is good, or else we'd be talking about it!  We were both joyful, because:  so far so good.