The Brothers Karamazov

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Mankind can find enough strength within itself to live for virtue’s sake, even without believing in the immortality of the soul.

“There is a drive in me that can withstand anything,” Ivan said coldly, with a twisted grin. “What drive?” “The Karamazov drive—the vile, earthly drive.”

Perhaps it was his irritation at himself, at his callowness and immature vanity, his annoyance at having failed to express himself properly,

The most irritating thing about it was that the anxiety seemed completely accidental, external, as if it had nothing to do with him. Something was disturbing his conscience, just as some object may irritate a person, when he is absorbed in work or a heated argument, without his being aware of it. The irritation grows and grows and becomes really painful before he manages to remove the offending object, which often turns out to be some insignificant thing like a handkerchief that has fallen on the floor or a book that has not been replaced in the bookcase.

“don’t be sad. Life is paradise; we all live in paradise, although we don’t want to see it. As soon as we are willing to recognize it, the whole world will become a paradise; it could happen tomorrow, any time.”

“now go and play and live some of life for me.”

“I know nothing better than the forest,” he told me, “although I think everything is good.”

“look around you and see all the things God has given us: look at the clear sky, at the air that is so transparent, at the tender grass and at the birds, at the beauty of immaculate and sinless nature, in which we are the only stupid, godless creatures who do not understand that life is a heaven. As soon as we understand that, we shall have that heaven here in all its beauty and we shall embrace one another and weep with joy …”

There is no science, no order based on the pursuit of material gain, that will enable men to share their goods fairly and to respect each other’s rights.

“What isolation?” I asked him. “The isolation that you find everywhere, particularly in our age. But it won’t come to an end right now, because the time has not yet come. Today everyone asserts his own personality and strives to live a full life as an individual. But these efforts lead not to a full life but to suicide, because, instead of realizing his personality, man only slips into total isolation. For in our age mankind has been broken up into self-contained individuals, each of whom retreats into his lair, trying to stay away from the rest, hiding himself and his belongings from the rest of mankind, and finally isolating himself from people and people from him.

Some claim that the world is gradually becoming united, that it will grow into a brotherly community as distances shrink and ideas are transmitted through the air. Alas, you must not believe that men can be united in this way. To consider freedom as directly dependent on the number of man’s requirements and the extent of their immediate satisfaction shows a twisted understanding of human nature, for such an interpretation only breeds in men a multitude of senseless, stupid desires and habits and endless preposterous inventions.

A child needs sunshine, he needs to play with other children, he needs someone to set him a good example, and above all he needs love, even if it is only a tiny drop of love

Love God’s creation, love every atom of it separately, and love it also as a whole; love every green leaf, every ray of God’s light; love the animals and the plants and love every inanimate object. If you come to love all things, you will perceive God’s mystery inherent in all things; once you have perceived it, you will understand it better and better every day. And finally you will love the whole world with a total, universal love.

God took the seeds of other worlds and sowed them on this earth and they sprouted in His garden; everything that could grow, did. And all that has grown remains alive and lives by its awareness of its ties to other, mysterious worlds, and if that awareness weakens or dies in you, then all that has grown within you will also die. And you will become indifferent to life, will even come to hate it. That is what I believe.

It’s possible that what I love is only the suffering he caused me, and that I really don’t care about him at all.”

“And what’s so terrible about weeping a little! That is a very fine way to feel, for you have a very, very long journey ahead of you.

Sometimes I think I’m just another despicable Bernard!”

Well, I really don’t know. There, I have made a great revelation.”