Wings Of > Wings's Quotes

“أحيانا يختفي المرء عن كافة الأنظار لأنه يخاف من القيل و القال ،إنهم يجعلون منه موضوعا لسخريتهم و تندرهم .”
― فيودور دوستويفسكي, Poor Folk

“وتذكرت أن الله لا يحب الصفقات أبدًا ...”
― دوستويفسكي, Poor Folk

“I don’t even know what I’m writing, I have no idea, I don’t know anything, and I’m not reading over it, and I’m not correcting my style, and I’m writing just for the sake of writing, just for the sake of writing more to you… My precious, my darling, my dearest!”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“My sweetheart! When I think of you, it's as if I'm holding some healing balm to my sick soul, and although i suffer for you, i find that even suffering for you is easy.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“لقد أعدت اليوم قراءة كافة رسائلك فشعرت بأنها حزينة”
― فيودور دوستويفسكي, Poor Folk

“نحن لا نرتدي المعاطف لأنفسنا ولا نتعل الجزمات لذواتنا، و إنما من أجل الناس.”
― فيودور دوستويفسكي, Poor Folk

“Yet as the evening of Sunday came on, a sadness as of death would overtake me, for at nine o'clock I had to return to school, where everything was cold and strange and severe—where the governesses, on Mondays, lost their tempers, and nipped my ears, and made me cry.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“Clouds overlaid the sky as with a shroud of mist, and everything looked sad, rainy, and threatening under a fine drizzle which was beating against the window-panes, and streaking their dull, dark surfaces with runlets of cold, dirty moisture. Only a scanty modicum of daylight entered to war with the trembling rays of the ikon lamp. The dying man threw me a wistful look, and nodded. The next moment he had passed away.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“You must not be angry with me for having been so sad yesterday; I was very happy, very content, but in my very best moments I am always for some reason sad. As for my crying, that means nothing. I don’t know myself why I am always crying. I feel ill and irritable; my sensations are due to illness. The pale cloudless sky, the sunset, the evening stillness – all that – I don’t know – but I was somehow in the mood yesterday to take a dreary and miserable view of everything, so that my heart was to fall any did the relief of tears. But why am I writing all this to you? It is hard to make all that clear to one’s own heart and still harder to convey it to another. But you, perhaps, will understand me. Sadness and laughter both at once! How kind you are really. You looked into my eyes yesterday as though to read in them what I was feeling and were delighted with my rapture.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“E la letteratura è una bella cosa, Varin'ka, una gran bella cosa. È una cosa profonda! Una cosa che fortifica il cuore della gente, che ammaestra. La letteratura è un quadro, cioè, in un certo qual modo è quadro e specchio; passioni, espressioni, critica sottile, ammaestramento deificante, documento.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Poor Folk

“How does it come about that what an intelligent man expresses is much stupider than what remains inside him?”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Adolescent