Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky; 11 November 1821 – 9 February 1881), sometimes transliterated Dostoevsky, was a Russian novelist, short story writer, essayist, journalist and philosopher. Dostoyevsky's literary works explore human psychology in the troubled political, social, and spiritual atmosphere of 19th-century Russia, and engage with a variety of philosophical and religious themes...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth11 November 1821
CityMoscow, Russia
thinking sometimes over-it
I sometimes think love consists precisely of the voluntary gift by the loved object of the right to tyrannize over it.
lying alive criminal-mind
The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.
lying deep-thought achieve
Happiness lies not in happiness but only in the attempt to achieve it.
lying facts watches
Above all, avoid lies, all lies, especially the lie to yourself. Keep watch on your own lie and examine it every hour, every minute. And avoid contempt, both of others and of yourself: what seems bad to you in yourself is purified by the very fact that you have noticed it in yourself. And avoid fear, though fear is simply the consequence of every lie. Never be frightened at your own faintheartedness in attaining love, and meanwhile do not even be very frightened by your own bad acts.
inspirational lying delightful-things
Lying is a delightful thing for it leads to the truth.
thinking blood rivers
Just take a look around you: Blood is flowing in rivers and in such a jolly way you’d think it was champagne.
life needs position
... what you need more than anything in life is a definite position.
mean devil habit
No, evidently habit means a lot. The devil knows what habit can do to a person.
thinking talking two
Don't think I'm talking nonsense because I'm drunk. I'm not a bit drunk. Brandy's all very well, but I need two bottles to make me drunk.
mother art children
I myself will perhaps cry out with all the rest, looking at the mother embracing her child's tormentor: 'Just art thou, O Lord!' but I do not want to cry out with them. While there's still time, I hasten to defend myself against it, and therefore I absolutely renounce all higher harmony. It is not worth one little tear of even that one tormented child who beat her chest with her little fist and prayed to 'dear God' in a stinking outhouse with her unredeemed tears!
fall eye thinking
I think that if one is faced by inevitable destruction -- if a house is falling upon you, for instance -- one must feel a great longing to sit down, close one's eyes and wait, come what may . . .
thinking dare
I utter what you would not dare think
thinking ideas house
We're always thinking of eternity as an idea that cannot be understood, something immense. But why must it be? What if, instead of all this, you suddenly find just a little room there, something like a village bath-house, grimy, and spiders in every corner, and that's all eternity is. Sometimes, you know, I can't help feeling that that's what it is.
hurt men thinking
I am a sick man...I am a spiteful man. An unattractive man. I think that my liver hurts.