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dangers of twenties (ambition, hatred, self-contempt, passions of all kinds).

no honey is sweeter than that of knowledge

The best author will be the one who is ashamed to become a writer.

Section Three: Religious Life

. . . : the inner world of sublime, tender, intuitive, deeply contrite, blissfully hopeful moods was begotten in man primarily through worship; . . .

can't stop reading,.. but have to sleep now. Dostoevsky writing about two girls (8yearsofage) kissing, this is unexpected from him, first two chapters are so good, after that this is unexpected!!! haha

ohh mine Dostoevsky, I wanna kiss your hands!!

read 9 stories out of 30 from this collection,... giving one last chance to Chekhov to impress me by his writing,.. till now he ain't doing any magic.

tomorrow,... everything will be alright... tomorrow.

read first chapter, for me this single chapter is way more special than the whole Fathers and Sons of Turgenev.

"Is it not strange, how Dostoevsky seems to revive every time our way of life dissolves in a fiery ferment?"

Aphorism 57: A good author, who really cares about his subject, wishes that someone would come and destroy him by representing the same subject more clearly and by answering every last question contained in it.

-- From Section Two: On the History of Moral Feelings

poetic language, little bit tough, i'm gonna love it.

My late grandfather's aunt used to say -- and you know it's easier for a woman to kiss the devil, meaning no offence, than to call another woman a beauty.

'You must know why you are alive, or else everything is nonsense, just blowing in the wind.'
― Anton Chekhov, Three Sisters

“..when one has no real life, one lives by mirages. It's still better than nothing.”
― Anton Chekhov, Uncle Vanya

I am a seagull. No, that's not right . . . Do you remember, you shot a seagull? A man just came along, saw it and killed it from having nothing to do . . . A plot for the story.

I have now become too lazy to think and be convinced of anything. However, I neither believe nor doubt any less than before. There is equilibrium in everything. I have become too lazy to convince myself of anything, but I am also too tired to undermine my faith, and I carefully preserve those beliefs which my restless mind has left in peace, and I’m afraid to become disenchanted with them or even to think about them.