I love mankind,' he said, 'but I marvel at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love human beings in particular, separately, that is, as individual persons.
That's as it should be, they tell us. A certain percentage, they tell us, must every year go, that way, to the devil, I suppose, so that the rest may remain chaste, and not be interfered with. A percentage! What splendid words they have; they are so scientific, so consolatory.
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?
I drink because I wish to multiply my sufferings.
We Russians cannot say anything in our own language ... At least we haven't yet.
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.