Truth won't escape you, but life can be cramped.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Profession: Author
Nationality: Russian

Truth won't escape you, but life can be cramped. Fyodor Dostoevsky

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He had a high opinion of his own insight, a weakness excusable in him as he was fifty, an age at which a clever man of the world of established position can hardly help taking himself rather seriously.

Lying is a privilege exclusive to humans among all other beings. It's by lying that one arrives at the truth! I tell lies; therefore, I'm human.

I remember that he was always trying to expound to me in his broken Russian some special system of astronomy he had invented. I was told that he had once published it, but the learned world had only laughed at him. I think his wits were a little deranged.

I was not only not a spiteful but not even an embittered man, that I was simply scaring sparrows at random and amusing myself by it.

Thus a man will sometimes suffer half an hour of mortal fear with a robber, but once the knife is finally at his throat, even fear vanishes.

The piggy goes oink, oink, oink, The calfy goes moo, moo, moo, The ducky goes quack, quack, quack And the goosey goes goo, goo, goo. Then little henny walks in the door, Cluck, cluck, she says, and cluck once more, Ai, ai, she clucked once more!

One of the prisoners, Grigoryev, went mad as soon as he was untied, and never regained his sanity.

The secret of man's being is not only to live but to have something to live for.

Only to live, to live and live! Life, whatever it may be!

The stub of the candle had long been guttering in its crooked candlestick within that wretched room, shedding its dim light on the murderer and the prostitute who had so strangely encountered each other in the reading of the eternal book.

Alyosha brought with him something his father had never known before: a complete absence of contempt for him and a consistent kindness, a perfectly natural, unaffected devotion to the old man who deserved so little.

I couldn't even conceive of playing a secondary part...Either a hero, or dirt, there was nothing in between. That was my undoing.

You can't be angry with me, because I am a hundred times more severely punished than you, if only by the fact that I shall never see you again.

Is there in the whole world a being who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? I don't want harmony. From love for humanity I don't want it. I would rather be left with the unavenged suffering.