She was a diminutive, withered up old woman of sixty, with sharp malignant eyes and a sharp little nose.

I saw the truth, I saw and I know that people can be beautiful and happy without losing the ability to live on earth. I will not and cannot believe that evil is the normal condition of people.

Oh, if you were the kind of man I am ... I loved the shame of depravity. I loved cruelty ... In a word -- a Karamazov!

Can you blame me, my dear, for looking on this attachment as a romantic folly inspired by that cursed Shakespeare who will poke his nose where he is not wanted?

At once he felt easier; and his thoughts became clear.

But the conquest of fear was what fascinated them. The continual ecstasy of vanquishing and the consciousness that no one could vanquish them was what attracted them.

Enough, dear son, enough, my friend, he said at last with deep feeling. What is it? You should rejoice and not weep. Don't you know that this is the greatest of his days?