Inspirational Quotes on Dostoyevsky

“A vida só me é dada uma vez, e ela nunca mais voltará—eu não quero esperar a 'felicidade geral'. Eu mesmo quero viver; do contrário o melhor seria não existir.”

“Yarının hiçlik olması tehdidiyle mutlu olamam ve olmayacağım. Derin bir hakaret bu... Bu yüzden, beni acı çekmem ve yok olmam için, fikrimi sormadan ve küstahça var eden bu doğayı; su götürmez davacı, savcı ve davalı rolümle, kendimle birlikte mahkum ediyorum... Doğayı yok edemediğim için de, sadece kendimi yok ediyorum, hiçbir suçlunun bulunmadığı bir tiranlığa katlanmaktan bezmiş olarak...”

“He could not consent to allow himself to be insulted, still less to allow himself to be treated as a rag, and, above all, to allow a thoroughly vicious man to treat him so. No quarrelling, however, no quarrelling! Possibly if some one wanted, if some one, for instance, actually insisted on turning Mr. Golyadkin into a rag, he might have done so, might have done so without opposition or punishment (Mr. Golyadkin was himself conscious of this at times), and he would have been a rag and not Golyadkin - yes, a nasty, filthy rag; but that rag would not have been a simple rag, it would have been a rag possessed of dignity, it would have been a rag possessed of feelings and sentiments, even though dignity was defenceless and feelings could not assert themselves, and lay hidden deep down in the filthy folds of the rag, still the feelings there...”

“Si se acabase el mundo y alguien preguntase a los hombres: «Veamos, ¿qué habéis sacado en limpio de vuestra vida y qué conclusión definitiva habéis deducido de ella?», podrían los hombres mostrar en silencio el Quijote y decir luego: «Ésta es mi conclusión sobre la vida y... ¿podríais condenarme por ella?”

“And why are you so firmly, so triumphantly, convinced that only the normal and the positive--in other words, only what is conducive to welfare--is for the advantage of man? Is not reason in error as regards advantage? Does not man, perhaps, love something besides well-being? Perhaps he is just as fond of suffering? Perhaps suffering is just as great a benefit to him as well-being? Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately, in love with suffering, and that is a fact. There is no need to appeal to universal history to prove that; only ask yourself, if you are a man and have lived at all. As far as my personal opinion is concerned, to care only for well-being seems to me positively ill-bred. Whether it's good or bad, it is sometimes very pleasant, too, to smash things. I hold no brief for suffering nor for well-being either. I am standing for ... my caprice, and for its being guaranteed to me when necessary. Suffering would be out of place in vaudevilles, for instance; I know that. In the "Palace of Crystal" it is unthinkable; suffering means doubt, negation, and what would be the good of a "palace of crystal" if there could be any doubt about it? And yet I think man will never renounce real suffering, that is, destruction and chaos. Why, suffering is the sole origin of consciousness. Though I did lay it down at the beginning that consciousness is the greatest misfortune for man, yet I know man prizes it and would not give it up for any satisfaction. Consciousness, for instance, is infinitely superior to twice two makes four. Once you have mathematical certainty there is nothing left to do or to understand. There will be nothing left but to bottle up your five senses and plunge into contemplation. While if you stick to consciousness, even though the same result is attained, you can at least flog yourself at times, and that will, at any rate, liven you up. Reactionary as it is, corporal punishment is better than nothing.”

“Por que ele... Não será você? Por que não é como você? Ele vale menos, e, entretanto, gosto mais dele do que de você.”

“İki kere iki dört çekilmez bir şey. İki kere iki dört, bana sorarsanız, bir küstahlıktır. İki kere iki dört, ellerini böğrüne dayayarak yolumuzu kesen, sağa sola tükürük atan bir külhanbeyinin ta kendisidir. İki kere iki dördün yetkinliğine inanırım ama en çok övülmeye değer bir şey varsa, o da iki kere ikinin beş etmesidir.”

“But now, strange as it seems, a peasant's small, scrawny. light brown nag is harnessed to such a large cart, one of those horses he's seen it often that sometimes strain to pull some huge load of firewood or hay. Especially if the cart has gotten stuck in the mud or a rut. The peasants always whip the horse so terribly, so very painfully, sometimes even across its muzzle and eyes, and he would always feel so sorry, so very sorry to witness it that he would feel like crying, and his mother would always lead him away from the window. Now things are getting extremely boisterous: some very large and extremely drunken peasants in red and blue shirts, their heavy coats slung over their shoulders. come out of the tavern shouting, singing. and playing balalaikas. “Git in. everyone git in!" shouts one peasant, a young lad with a thick neck and a fleshy face, red as a beet, “I'll take ya all. Git in!" But there is a burst of laughter and shouting: “That ol’ nag ain't good for nothin'!" “Hey, Mikolka, you must be outta yer head to hitch that ol' mare to yer cart!" “That poor ol' horse must be twenty if she's a day, lads!" “Git in, I'll take ya all!" Mikolka shouts again,jumping in first, taking hold of the reins, and standing up straight in the front of the cart. “Matvei went off with the bay," he cries from the cart, “and as for this ol' mare here, lads, she's only breakin' my heart: I don't give a damn ifit kills ’er; she ain't worth her salt. Git in, I tell ya! I'll make 'er gallop! She’ll gallop, all right!" And he takes the whip in his hand, getting ready to thrash the horse with delight. "What the hell, git in!" laugh several people in the crowd. "You heard 'im, she'll gallop!" “I bet she ain't galloped in ten years!" "She will now!" “Don't pity 'er, lads; everyone, bring yer whips, git ready!" "That's it! Thrash 'er!" They all clamber into Mikolka's cart with guffaws and wisecracks. There are six lads and room for more. They take along a peasant woman, fat and ruddy. She's wearing red calico, a headdress trimmed with beads, and fur slippers; she‘s cracking nuts and cackling. The crowd’s also laughing; as a matter of fact, how could one keep from laughing at the idea of a broken down old mare about to gallop, trying to pull such a heavy load! Two lads in the cart grab their whips to help Mikolka. The shout rings out: “Pull!" The mare strains with all her might, but not only can’t she gallop, she can barely take a step forward; she merely scrapes her hooves, grunts, and cowers from the blows of the three whips raining down on her like hail. Laughter redoubles in the cart and among the crowd, but Mikolka grows angry and in his rage strikes the little mare with more blows, as if he really thinks she’ll be able to gallop. “Take me along, too, lads!" shouts someone from the crowd who’s gotten a taste of the fun. “Git in! Everyone, git inl" cries Mikolka. “She'll take everyone. I‘ll flog 'er!" And he whips her and whips her again; in his frenzy, he no longer knows what he’s doing. “Papa, papa," the boy cries to his father. “Papa, what are they doing? Papa, they‘re beating the poor horse!" “Let's go, let's go!" his father says. “They’re drunk, misbehaving, those fools: let’s go. Don't look!" He tries to lead his son away. but the boy breaks from his father‘s arms; beside himself, he runs toward the horse. But the poor horse is on her last legs. Gasping for breath, she stops, and then tries to pull again, about to drop. “Beat 'er to death!" cries Mikolka. ”That's what it's come to. I‘ll flog ‘er!" “Aren't you a Christian. you devil?" shouts one old man from the crowd. “Just imagine, asking an ol' horse like that to pull such a heavy load,” adds another. “You‘ll do 'er in!" shouts a third. “Leave me alone! She’s mine! I can do what I want with 'er! Git in, all of ya! Everyone git in I'm gonna make 'er gallop!”

“Küçük düşürülmesinde bile haz aramaya kalkışan bir adamın kendisine ufacık bir saygısı kalabilir mi? Hadi, siz söyleyin!Bunu umut kırıcı bir pişmanlık sonunda söylemiyorum. Öteden beri "Beni bağışla babacığım, bir daha yapmam!" demekten nefret etmişimdir..Böyle söylemeyi beceremediğim için değil; tam tersine, kolaylıkla, hem de çok rahat söyleyebildiğim için nefret etmişimdir bu sözden.”

“Benim asıl kızdığım şey, sinirli anlarımda bile içimde bir öfke ya da hıncın bulunmaması, bütün cartcurtları yalnız gönlümü hoş tutmak için yapmamdı. Öfkeden ağzım köpürmüşken biri biraz gönlümü alsa ya da önüme bir bardak çay sürse hemen yelkenleri suya indirirdim. Bununla da kalmaz, ona karşı bir yakınlık duyardım; ama sonra kendime kızar utancımdan birkaç ay uykularımdan olurdum. Yaratılışım böyleydi işte.”

“Jest rzeczą powszechnie wiadomą, że prawdę mówią tylko ci, co nie są dowcipni.”

“There's just one thing: how can I make a compact with the earth evermore? I don't kiss the earth, I don't tear open her bosom; what should I do, become a peasant or a shepherd? I keep going and I don't know; have I gotten into stench and shame, or into light and joy? That's the whole trouble, because everything on earth is a riddle.”

“Her insanın hatıraları arasında herkese anlatmadığı, yalnızca dostlarına açtığı şeyler vardır. Ama dostlarına bile açamadığı, yalnızca kendine açtığı şeyler de vardır. Nihayet bazı şeyler vardır ki, kendine açmaya bile korkar onları.”

“Moreover, I felt weak and in the right mood, and besides, shamming so easily coexists with sincere feeling.”

“Tutalım ki, insanın yaptığı tek şey bu iki kere iki dördü aramaktır. Yüzerek okyanusları geçiyor, bu yolda ölümü göze alıyor, ama onu gerçekten bulmaktan da inanın, çok korkuyordur. Onu bulunca arayacağı başka bir şeyin kalmayacağını hissetmektedir çünkü.”

“Öyle ya, belki yalnızca mutluluğu sevmiyordur insan? Belki aynı ölçüde acıyı da seviyordur? Belki acı da mutluluk kadar çıkarınadır?”

“Gerçek, tam bir hastalıktır. Sıradan bir bilinç, insanın yaşaması için fazlasıyla yeterlidir.”

“Si se falla la primera vez, hacer de tripas corazón y si se tiene éxito, perseverar”