ما الخوف على كل حال إلا ثمرة من ثمرات الكذب
Fyodor DostoevskyMay your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life?
Fyodor DostoevskyMots clés white-nights
I want to attempt a thing like that and am frightened by these trifles," he thought, with an odd smile. "Hm … yes, all is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of
Fyodor DostoevskyMutsuzluk bulaşıcı bir hastalıktır. Mutsuzlar, zavallılar daha da mutsuz, zavallı olmamak için birbirinden kaçmalıdırlar.
Fyodor DostoevskyMots clés insanciklar poor-folk
Resulta curioso y ridículo lo mucho que a veces puede expresar la mirada de un hombre vergonzoso, morbosamente púdico, tocado por el amor, precisamente cuando este hombre preferiría que la tierra se abriera bajo sus pies antes de decir nada o de darlo a entender con la palabra o con los ojos.
Fyodor DostoevskyEntre nosotros se han establecido unas relaciones un tanto extrañas, que en muchos aspectos me resultan incomprensibles si tomo en consideración su orgullo y la altivez que muestra con todos. Sabe, por ejemplo, que la amo con locura.
Fyodor DostoevskyВъв всичко има черта, зад която е опасно да се премине, а веднъж премината, е невъзможно вече да се върнем назад.
Fyodor DostoevskyMots clés граници
...For active love is a harsh and fearful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams thirsts for immediate action, quickly performed, and with everyone watching. Indeed, it will go as far as the giving even of one's life, provided it does not take long but is soon over, as on stage, and everyone is looking on and praising. Whereas active love is labor and perseverance, and for some people, perhaps, a whole science.
Fyodor DostoevskyHe had not far to go; he knew indeed how many steps it was from the gate of his lodging house: exactly seven hundred and thirty. He had counted them once when he had been lost in dreams. At the time he had put no faith in those dreams and was only tantalising himself by their hideous but daring recklessness. Now, a month later, he had begun to look upon them differently, and, in spite of the monologues in which he jeered at his own impotence and indecision, he had involuntarily come to regard this "hideous" dream as an exploit to be attempted, although he still did not realise this himself. He was positively going now for a "rehearsal" of his project, and at every step his excitement grew more and more violent.
Fyodor DostoevskyBut yet I am firmly persuaded that a great deal of consciousness, every sort of consciousness, in fact, is a disease.
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