Inspirational Quotes by Fyodor Dostoevsky

“My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic, while his is waning and waning, and that's why we're drifting apart”

“Választ kerestem a kérdésemre. De választ a gondolat nem adhatott – a gondolat összemérhetetlen ezzel a kérdéssel. Választ maga az élet adott, tudomásomban, hogy mi jó s mi rossz. S ezt a tudást semmivel sem szereztem – mindenestül adatott –, mert hisz sehonnan nem vehettem. Honnan vettem hát? Ésszel jöttem rá, hogy felebarátomat szeretni kell s nem megfojtani? Gyerekkoromban mondták, s örömest elhittem, mert azt mondták, ami a lelkemben volt. Ki fedezte föl? Nem az ész. Az ész a létért való harcot fedezte föl, a törvényt, mely arra ösztökél, hogy megfojtsak mindenkit, aki vágyaim kielégítésében akadályoz. Az észnek ez a bölcsessége. Hogy mást szeressek, az ész nem fedezhette föl, hisz ésszerűtlen.”

“Tutto quello che si mostrava così chiaramente a Kitty nello specchio del volto di Anna, ella lo vide in lui. [...] egli ora, ogni volta che si rivolgeva a lei, piegava un po' il capo, come desiderando di caderle davanti, e nello sguardo aveva la sua espressione dell docilità e del timore.”

“Handa genç bir kadınla yaptığı konuşmayı anımsadı. Çocuğun var mı sorusuna bu güzel genç kadın neşeyle şu yanıtı vermişti: - Bir tane kız vardı, Tanrı beni kurtardı, Geçen oruçta gömdüm. - Çok üzülmüşsündür, değil mi? -diye sormuştu Darya Aleksandrovna. - Neden üzüleyim? İhtiyarın o kadar çok torunu var ki. Dertten başka bir şey değil. Ne çalışabilirsin, ne iş yapabilirsin. Sadece ayak bağı. Genç kadının iyilik dolu sevimli yüzüne rağmen bu yanıt Darya Aleksandrovna'ya çok iğrenç gelmişti, ama şimdi elinde olmadan bu sözleri anımsıyordu. Bu arsız sözlerde gerçeklik payı da vardı. On beş yıllık evlilik hayatını gözden geçiren Darya Aleksandrovna "Evet, genel olarak hamilelik, bulantı, zihin uyuşukluğu, her şeye karşı ilgisizlik ve en önemlisi de çirkinleşmeyle geçiyor, -diye düşünüyordu.- Gencecik, güzel Kiti bile bozuldu, bense hamilelikte çirkinleşiyorum, bunu biliyorum. Doğum, sancılar, korkunç sancılar, o son dakika... sonra emzirme, o uykusuz geceler, o korkunç ağrılar..." Darya Aleksandrovna hemen hemen her bebekte yaşadığı çatlayan meme uçlarının acısını yalnızca anımsamakla bile ürpermişti. "Sonra çocukların hastalıkları, o sonsuz korku; sonra çocukların yetiştirilmesi, kötü huyları (küçük Maşa'nın ahududu toplarken işlediği suçu anımsadı), öğrenimleri, Latince... Bunların hepsi ne kadar anlaşılmaz ve zor. Hepsinin üstüne bir de bu çocukların ölümü." Ve hayalinde tekrar ana yüreğini her zaman ezen, difteriden kaybettiği en son oğlunun ölümü, bebeğin gömülmesi, bu küçük pembe tabuta karşı herkesin aldırmazlığı ve üzerindeki sırmalı haçıyla pembe kapağını kapattıkları anda tabutun içinde görünen şakakları lüle lüle, soluk alnın, hayretle açılmış minik ağzın karşısında yüreğini parçalayan yapayalnız acısı canlandı.”

“Zij haatte niemand meer; een wemelend halfduister daalde neer over haar brein, en van alle aardse klanken hoorde Emma alleen nog de gestadige klacht van dit arme hart, zacht en vaag, als de laatste klanken van een wegstervende symfonie.”

“Oyvind was obliged to admit, as he laid himself down, that he had never gone to bed so happy before; he gave this an interpretation of his own, — he understood it to mean: I have never before gone to bed feeling so resigned to God’s will and so happy in it.”

“It is one of the most detestable habits of a Liliputian mind to credit other people with its own malignant pettiness.”

“If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.”

“Believe me, my friends, it is with talents as with virtue; one must love them for their own sake, or entirely renounce them. And neither of them is acknowledged and rewarded, except when their possessor can practise them unseen, like a dangerous secret.”

“And to a place I come where nothing shines.”

“Yet such persons are, without us, what the ideal of perfection is within us: models not for being imitated, but for being aimed at.”

“Our fatherland is suffering, not from the incursion of a score of alien tongues, but from our own acts, in that, in addition to the lawful administration, there has grown up a second administration possessed of infinitely greater powers than the system established by law.”

“Men should be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown propos’d as things forgot;”

“Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend.”

“Is it — because I — am a houseman’s son that I only stand number nine or ten?” “No doubt that was it,” replied the school-master. “Then it is of no use for me to work,” said Oyvind, drearily, and all his bright dreams vanished. Suddenly he raised his head, lifted his right hand, and bringing it down on the table with all his might, flung himself forward on his face and burst into passionate tears.”

“don't in the least understand why men can't live without wars.”

“Gracious Providence, to whom I owe all my powers, why didst thou not withhold some of those blessings I possess, and substitute in their place a feeling of self-confidence and contentment?”

“Chr.: Apollyon, beware what you do, for I am in the King’s High-way, the way of Holiness, therefore take heed to yourself. Apol.: Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter, prepare thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal Den, that thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul. And with that he threw a flaming Dart at his breast, but Christian had a Shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. Christian wounded in his understanding, faith, and conversation Then did Christian draw, for he saw ’twas time to bestir him: and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing Darts as thick as Hail; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot: This made Christian give a little back; Apollyon therefore followed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore Combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent; for you must know that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. Apollyon casteth down to the ground Christian Christian’s victory over Apollyon Then Apollyon espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that Christian’s Sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now: and with that he had almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life: but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his Sword, and caught it, saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine Enemy! when I fall I shall arise; and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound: Christian, perceiving that, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are more than Conquerors through him that loved us. And with that Apollyon spread forth his Dragon’s wings, and sped him away, that Christian for a season saw him no more.”

“The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments.”

“THE LIFE OF Björnstjerne Björnson was so full and active, and involves to such a degree the intellectual and political history of his country in the second half of the nineteenth century, that it is impossible in a short sketch to do more than indicate its main outlines. He was born, the son of a pastor, in Kvikne, Osterdal, Norway, on December 8, 1832, but his youth was spent mainly in the picturesque district of Romsdal. He was educated in Molde and Christiania, and early began a career as a journalist and dramatic critic. His first book of importance was “Synnöve Solbakken” (1857), and it was followed by “Arne,” “A Happy Boy” (1860), and “The Fisher Maiden.” These works deal with the Norwegian peasant, portrayed with understanding and sympathy, and, though true to nature, have an idyllic quality which separates them from much of the fiction of rural life that was being written elsewhere in Europe at that time.”