At first, it was simply liking, Antenna, but now, now ! I am just in the same position as you were when you went to him with your bundle. In a worse position than you, Antenna, because he cared for no one else as you do.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

At some thoughts one stands perplexed - especially at the sight of men's sin - and wonders whether one should use force or humble love. Always decide to use humble love. If you resolve on that, once and for all, you may subdue the whole world. Loving humility is marvelously strong, the strongest of all things, and there is nothing else like it.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

At that time I was only twenty-four years old. My life then was already gloomy, disorderly, and solitary to the point of savagery.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

A wise man is not afraid to face the truth

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Bah! You want to hear the vilest thing a man’s done, and you want him to be a hero at the same time!

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Beauty will save the world.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Because everyone is guilty of everyone else. For all the 'wee ones,' because there are little children and big children. All people are 'wee ones.' And I'll go for all of them, because there must be someone who will go for all of them.

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Because it begins to seem to me at such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in real life, because it has seemed to me that I have lost all touch, all instinct for the actual, the real; because at last I have cursed myself; because after my fantastic nights I have moments of returning sobriety, which are awful! Meanwhile, you hear the whirl and roar of the crowd in the vortex of life around you; you hear, you see, men living in reality; you see that life for them is not forbidden, that their life does not float away like a dream, like a vision; that their life is being eternally renewed, eternally youthful, and not one hour of it is the same as another; while fancy is so spiritless, monotonous to vulgarity and easily scared, the slave of shadows, of the idea, the slave of the first cloud that shrouds the sun... One feels that this inexhaustible fancy is weary at last and worn out with continual exercise, because one is growing into manhood, outgrowing one's old ideals: they are being shattered into fragments, into dust; if there is no other life one must build one up from the fragments. And meanwhile the soul longs and craves for something else! And in vain the dreamer rakes over his old dreams, as though seeking a spark among the embers, to fan them into flame, to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire, and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet, that touched his heart, that set his blood boiling, drew tears from his eyes, and so luxuriously deceived him!

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Before it was just her infernal curves that fretted me, but now I've taken her whole soul into my soul, and through her, I've become a man!

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky