Notes from Underground and the Double

best definition of man is: a creature that has two legs and no sense of gratitude

Not only couldn’t I make myself malevolent, I couldn’t make myself anything: neither good nor bad, neither a scoundrel nor an honest man, neither a hero nor an insect. Now I go on living in my corner and irritating myself with the spiteful and worthless consolation that a wise man can’t seriously make himself anything, only a fool makes himself anything.

Can a thinking man have any self-respect whatever?