What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky (/ˌdɒstəˈjɛfski, ˌdʌs-/; Russian: Фёдор Миха́йлович Достое́вский; IPA: [ˈfʲɵdər mʲɪˈxajləvʲɪtɕ dəstɐˈjɛfskʲɪj]; 11 November 1821 – 9 February 1881), sometimes transliterated Dostoevsky, was a Russian novelist, short story writer, essayist, journalist and philosopher. Dostoyevsky's literary works explore human psychology in the troubled political, social, and spiritual atmosphere of 19th-century Russia, and engage with a variety of philosophical and religious themes. He began writing in his 20s, and his first novel, Poor Folk, was published in 1846 when he was 25. His most acclaimed works include Crime and Punishment (1866), The Idiot (1869), Demons (1872) and The Brothers Karamazov (1880). Dostoyevsky's oeuvre consists of 11 novels, three novellas, 17 short stories and numerous other works. Many literary critics rate him as one of the greatest psychologists in world literature. His 1864 novella Notes from Underground is considered to be one of the first works of existentialist literature. Born in Moscow in 1821, Dostoyevsky was introduced to literature at an early age through fairy tales and legends, and through books by Russian and foreign authors. His mother died in 1837 when he was 15, and around the same time he left school to enter the Nikolayev Military Engineering Institute. After graduating, he worked as an engineer and briefly enjoyed a lavish lifestyle, translating books to earn extra mone
Beauty! I can't bear the thought that man of lofty mind and heart begins with the ideal of Madonna and ends with the ideal of Sodom. What's still more awful is that man with the ideal of Sodom in his soul does not renounce the ideal of the Madonna, and his heart may be on fire with the ideal,…
Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine that you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature... Would you consent to be the architect on…
What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.
It takes something more than intelligence to act intelligently.
To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.
Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.
Intelligence alone is not nearly enough when it comes to acting wisely.
Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.
I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.
Something had caught fire within me, a purpose had revealed itself.
Yet, I didn’t understand that she was intentionally disguising her feelings with sarcasm; that was usually the last resort of people who are timid and chaste of heart, whose souls have been coarsely and impudently invaded; and who, until the last moment, refuse to yield out of pride and are afraid…
I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.
I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.
Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.
Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately, in love with suffering.
To think too much is a disease.