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953dace
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But man is a fickle and disreputable creature and perhaps, like a chess-player, is interested in the process of attaining his goal rather than the goal itself.
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fiction
russian-literature
russian
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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85090a3
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A word aptly uttered or written cannot be cut away by an axe.
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literature
nikolai-gogol
russian-literature
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Nikolai Gogol |
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31ec1b1
|
But the older he grew and the more intimately he came to know his brother, the oftener the thought occurred to him that the power of working for the general welfare - a power of which he felt himself entirely destitute - was not a virtue but rather a lack of something: not a lack of kindly honesty and noble desires and tastes, but a lack of the power of living, of what is called heart - the aspiration which makes a man choose one out of all the innumerable paths of life that present themselves, and desire that alone.
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russian-literature
romances
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Leo Tolstoy |
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c103395
|
Anger was buried far too early in a young heart, which perhaps contained much good.
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dostoevsky
russian-literature
classics
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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342f793
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"Have you seen a leaf, a leaf from a tree?" "I have. " "I saw one recently, a yellow one, with some green,decayed on the edges. Blown about by the wind. When I was 10 years old, I'd close my eyes on purpose, in winter, and imagine a leaf - green, bright, with veins, and the sun shining. I'd open my eyes and not believe it, because it was so good, then I'd close them again. " "What's that, an allegory?" "N-no... Why? Not an allegory, simply a leaf, one leaf. A leaf is good. Everything is good." "Everything? " "Everything. Man is unhappy because he doesn't know he's happy; only because of that. It's everything, everything! Whoever learns will at once immediately become happy, that same moment. This mother-in-law will die and the girl won't remain - everything is good. I discovered suddenly. " "And if someone dies of hunger, or someone offends and dishonors the girl - is that good? " "Good. And if someone's head get smashed in for the child's sake, that's good, too; and if it doesn't get smashed in, that's good, too. Everything is good, everything. For all those who know that everything is good. If they knew it was good with them, it would be good with them, but as long as they don't know it's good with them, it will not be good with them. That's the whole thought, the whole, there isn't any more! " "And when did you find out that you were so happy? " "Last week, on Tuesday, no, Wednesday, because it was Wednesday by then, in the night. "
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russian-literature
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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a5965e2
|
Vronsky meanwhile, in spite of the complete fulfilment of what he had so long desired, was not completely happy. He soon felt that the realization of his longing gave him only one grain of the mountain of bliss he had anticipated. That realization showed him the eternal error men make by imagining that happiness consists in the gratification of their wishes. When first he united his life with hers and donned civilian clothes, he felt the delight of freedom in general, such as he had not before known, and also the freedom of love--he was contented then, but not for long. Soon he felt rising in his soul a desire for desires--boredom. Involuntarily he began to snatch at every passing caprice, mistaking it for a desire and a purpose.
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society-novel
russian-literature
realistic-fiction
novel
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Leo Tolstoy |
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9db0f6c
|
And even though we may be involved with the most important affairs, achieve distinction or fall into some great misfortune- all the same, let us never forget how good we all once felt here, all together, united by such good and kind feelings as made us, too,...perhaps better than we actually are.
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brothers-karamazov
dostoevsky
russian-literature
graduation
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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f014d32
|
All is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of. Taking a new step, uttering a new word is what they fear most... .
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life-quotes
life
crime-and-punishment
dostoevsky
dostoyevski
russian-literature
dostoyevsky
life-philosophy
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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3988307
|
I see that my presence is burdensome to you. Painful as it was for me to become convinced of it, I see that it is so and cannot be otherwise. I do not blame you, and God is my witness that, seeing you during your illness, I resolved with all my soul to forget everything that had been between us and start a new life. I do not repent and will never repent of what I have done; but I desired one thing - your good, the good of your soul - and now I see that I have not achieved it. Tell me yourself what will give you true happiness and peace in your soul. I give myself over entirely to your will and your sense of justice.
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anna-karenina
best-of-tolstoy
classic-literature
russian-literature
classics
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Leo Tolstoy |
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73a562b
|
"Now life is given in exchange for pain and fear, and that's the basis of the whole deception. Now man is still not what he should be. There will e a new man, happy and proud. Whoever doesn't care whether he lives or doesn't live, he himself will be God. And that other God will no longer be.'
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suicide
death
god
russian-lit
fyodor-dostoyevsky
russian-literature
dostoyevsky
russian
demons
russia
|
Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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cf86c36
|
Kalbim icimde konusurken ben susmayi beceremem.
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romance
russian-literature
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky |
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041fb7f
|
Briefly (Vladimir Nabokov) caught the (Superman) fever too, composing a poem, now lost, on the the Man of Steel's wedding night.
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vladimir-nabokov
russian-literature
superman
superheroes
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Stacy Schiff |
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eb818d1
|
"Seeing that I would never manage to fall asleep, I arose, lit a candle, and after dressing went outside. Beneath the dull glow of the winter moon the snow glowed like pale blue china. The sidewalks sparkled weakly beneath the rays of the flickering street lamps; the benumbed streets slumbered forlornly. I walked, passing one corner after the other, and suddenly found myself on the edge of town. Further, beyond the square, an endless expanse began to glisten with a somber silverness. I stopped just before the gates. My intent gaze could distinguish nothing in the distant white expanse. Before me rose the imposing bank of the Volga like a gigantic snowdrift. So barren and uninviting was this deserted view resembling eternity that my heart contracted. I turned to the right and approached quite close to the monastery enclosure. From behind the bronze gates, glimmered a dense net of crosses and gravestones. The ancient eyes of the church gazed forbiddingly down on me, and with an eerie feeling I thought of the monks sleeping at this moment in tomb-like cells together with corpses. Were any of them thinking of the hour of death on this night? ("Lamia")"
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city-at-night
volga
russian-literature
graveyard
night
snow
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Boris Sadovskoy |