Inspirational Quotes by Fyodor Dostoevsky

“...the laws of nature have continually all my life offended me more than anything.”

“Jam njeri i semure... Jam edhe tip keqdashesi. Nuk bej pjese, nderkohe, ne simpatiket. Me duket se vuaj nga melçia, ndonese vete une gje prej gjeje nuk kuptoj nga semundjet, as qe e di me saktesi ç'me dhemb. Nuk kurohem e as jam kuruar ndonjehere, pavaresisht nga respekti qe kam per mjekesine (se i shkolluar une jam, por edhe bestyd jam). Me ka hipur ne kole, nuk dua te kurohem nga inati. Ju kete kushedi as edhe e kuptoni, kurse une e kuptoj, ndonese s'jam ne gjendje t'ua shpjegoj se kujt i bej dem me kete inat timin. E di fort mire, qe as mjekeve e askujt tjeter nuk i behet vone qe jam tip inatçori, e as vete per veten nuk e çaj koken, ndonese fort mire e di qe inati eshte dem i kokes. Ngado qe ta sjellesh e kam mbushur mendjen, e kam bere top: nuk dua qe nuk dua te kurohem. Me dhemb kjo e shkrete melçi, le te dhembe, nuk paska plasur!”

“And again one asks oneself what has one done with one's years. Where have you buried your best days? Have you lived or not?”

“But instead of delight his soul was filled with such gloom, and his heart ached with such anguish, as he had never known in his life before... "I am base" he whispered to himself.”

“So far as Emma was concerned she did not ask herself whether she was in love. Love, she thought, was something that must come suddenly, with a great display of thunder and lightning, descending on one's life like a tempest from above, turning it topsy-turvy, whirling away one's resolutions like leaves and bearing one onward, heart and soul, towards the abyss. She never bethought herself how on the terrace of a house the rain forms itself into little lakes when the gutters are choked, and she was going on quite unaware of her peril, when all of a sudden she discovered--a crack in the wall!”

“Pentru el, universul nu era mai mare decat circumferinta matasoasa a fustei ei; isi reprosa ca n-o iubeste, i se facea dor s-o vada iar; si se intorcea repede, urca scara cu inima batand. Emma, in camera ei, isi facea toaleta; el intra cu pasi usori, o saruta pe spate, iar ea scotea un tipat. Nu se putea opri sa-i atinga tot timpul pieptenele, inelele, salul; uneori ii saruta zgomotos obrajii sau o coplesea cu un sirag de sarutari marunte de-a lungul bratului gol, din varful degetelor pana la umar; ea-l respingea, pe jumatate zambitoare si plictisita, ca pe un copil care se tine scai. Inainte sa se marite crezuse ca simtea iubire; dar fericirea care ar fi trebuit sa rezulte din aceasta iubire nefacandu-si aparitia, insemna ca s-a inselat, gandea ea. Si Emma incerca sa afle ce se intelegea de fapt in viata prin cuvinte ca desfatare, patima si betie, care i se parusera atat de frumoase in carti.”

“Man only notices his sorrows; he takes his happiness for granted.”

“Duhet te qendrojne larg njeri-tjetri si fatkeqet ashtu dhe te varferit, keshtu nuk do te rendoheshin nga njeri-tjetri. Ju shkaktova aq shume fatkeqesi, qe s'i kishit patur kurre me pare ne jeten modeste te vetmitarit. Kjo me brengos, ma derrmon shpirtin.”

“There are some people about whom it is difficult to say anything which would describe them immediately and fully in their most typical and characteristic aspects; these are the people who are usually called "ordinary" and accounted as "the majority," and who actually do make up the great majority of society. In their novels and stories writers most often try to choose and present vividly and artistically social types which are extremely seldom encountered in real life, and which are nevertheless more real than real life itself. Podkolyosin, viewed as a type, in perhaps exaggerated, but he is hardly unknown. How many clever people having learned from Gogol about Podkolyosin at once discover that great numbers of their friends bear a terrific resemblance to Podkolyosin. They knew before Gogol that their friends were like Podkolyosin, except they did not know yet that that was their name... Nevertheless the question remains before us: what is the novelist to do with the absolutely "ordinary" people, and how can he present them to readers so that they are at all interesting? To leave them out of a story completely is not possible, because ordinary people are at every moment, by and large, the necessary links in the chain of human affairs; leaving them out, therefore, means to destroy credibility. To fill a novel entirely with types or, simply for the sake of interest, strange and unheard-of people, would be improbable and most likely not even interesting. In our opinion the writer must try to find interesting and informative touches even among commonplace people. When, for example, the very nature of certain ordinary persons consists precisely of their perpetual and unvarying ordinariness, or, better still, when in spite of their most strenuous efforts to life themselves out of the rut of ordinariness and routine, then such persons acquire a certain character of their own-the typical character of mediocrity which refuses to remain what it is and desires at all costs to become original and independent, without having the slightest capacity for independence.”

“إنه للذة عظيمة أن يخلع المرء قناعه فجأة, وأن يسفر عن وجهه لشخص آخر حين يكون في حالة لا يتنازل فيها حتى لأن يشعر بالحياء أمام ذلك الشخص الآخر.”

“Entre as recordações de cada pessoa, há coisas que ela não conta para qualquer um, somente para os amigos. Há também aquelas que ela não conta nem para os amigos, somente para sim mesma, e isso secretamente. Mas, finalmente, há também aquelas que o indivíduo tem medo de revelar até para si mesmo, e um homem respeitável tem tais coisas acumuladas em grande quantidade. E pode ser assim mesmo: quanto mais respeitável ele é, mais coisas desse tipo ele tem acumuladas. Eu, pelo menos, só recentemente tomei coragem para recordar algumas das minhas aventuras passadas, as quais até agora tinha evitado com uma certa inquietação. E agora, quando não só recordei, como até me decidi a escrevê-las, agora exatamente quero tirar a prova: é possível alguém ser inteiramente sincero consigo mesmo e não temer toda a verdade? A propósito: Heine afirma que é quase impossível existirem autobiografias sinceras, porque na certa o ser humano mentirá, falando de si mesmo. Na opinião dele, por exemplo, Rousseau sem dúvida mentiu sobre si mesmo em suas 'Confissões' e fez isso até deliberadamente, por vaidade. Estou convencido de que Heine está certo; entendo perfeitamente como, às vezes, alguém pode confessar uma série de crimes por pura vaidade e percebo até muito bem de que tipo pode ser essa vaidade.”

“Me dendin me lakra, gatuar me çaj, Fryhu bark, fryhu, pelcit,.s'te kam faj! ("kenge burgu")”

“إن من أسوأ وأدنأ الأشياء المتعلقة بالمال أنه قادر على شراء كل شيء حتى المواهب وستبقي هذه الحقيقة بقاء الحياة في هذا العالم. الأبله”

“إنني أصبح عدوا للبشر متى أقتربت منهم”

“Quel bonheur dans ce temps-là ! quelle liberté ! quel espoir ! quellle abondance d’illusions ! Il n’en restait plus maintenant ! Elle en avait dépensé à toutes les aventures de son âme, par toutes les conditions successives, dans la virginité, dans le mariage et dans l’amour ; - les perdant ainsi continuellement le long de sa vie, comme un voyageur qui laisse quelque chose de sa richesse à toutes les auberges de la route. Mais qui donc la rendait si malheureuse ? où était la catastrophe extraordinaire qui l’avait bouleversée ? Elle releva sa tête, regardant autour d’elle, comme pour chercher la cause de ce qui la faisait souffrir.”

“Everyone, he thought, must have adored her; all men assuredly must have coveted her. She seemed but the more beautiful to him for this; he was seized with a lasting, furious desire for her, that inflamed his despair, and that was boudless, because it was now unrealisable. To please her, as if she were still living, he adopted her predilections, her ideas; he bought patent leather boots and took to wearing white cravats. He put cosmetics on his moustache, and, like her, signed notes of hand. She corrupted him from beyond the grave.”

“I assure you that I sleep anywhere, and always like a dormouse.”

“Now every time he turned to her, he bent his head, as though he would have fallen at her feet, and in his eyes there was nothing but humble submission and dread. 'I would not offend you' his eyes seemed every time to be saying, 'but I want to save myself, and I don't know how.”

“Reasoning led him into doubt and kept him from seeing what he should and should not do. Yet when he did not think, but lived, he constantly felt in his soul the presence of an infallible judge who decided which of two possible actions was better and which was worse; and whenever he did not act as he should, he felt it at once. So he lived, not knowing and not seeing any possibility of knowing what he was and why he was living in the world, tormented by this ignorance to such a degree that he feared suicide, and at the same time firmly laying down his own particular, definite path in life.”

“[The Devil] In my opinion, there is no need to destroy anything, one needs only destroy the idea of God in mankind, that's where the business should start! One should begin with that, with that--oh, blind men, of no understanding! Once mankind has renounced God, one and all (and I believe that this period, analogous to the geological periods, will come), then the entire old world view will fall of itself, without antrhopophagy, and, above all, the entire former morality, and everything will be new. People will come together in order to take from life all that it can give, but, of course, for happiness and joy in this world only. Man will be exalted with the spirit of the divine, tatanic pride, and the man-god will appear. Man, his will and his science no longer limited, conquering nature every hour, will thereby every hour experience such lofty delight as will replace for him all his former hopes of heavenly delight. Each will know himself utterly mortal, without resurrection, and will accept death proudly and calmly, like a god. Out of pride he will understand that he should not murmur against the momentariness of life, and he will love his brother then without any reward. Love will satisfy only the moment of life, but the very awareness of its momentariness will increase its fire, inasmuch as previously it was diffused in hopes of an eternal love beyond the grave.”