The Idiot (AmazonClassics Edition)

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

But here I should imagine the most terrible part of the whole punishment is, not the bodily pain at all—but the certain knowledge that in an hour,—then in ten minutes, then in half a minute, then now—this very instant—your soul must quit your body and that you will no longer be a man—and that this is certain, certain! that’s the point—the certainty of it.

but worst of all was the idea, what should I do if I were not to die now? What if I were to return to life again? What an eternity of days, and all mine!

I am not blushing, for I don’t think I need blush about it, need I? but I see that I am not wanted in society—society is better without me. It’s not vanity on my heart, I assure you. I have thought over it all these last three days and I have made up my mind that I ought to unbosom myself candidly before you at the first opportunity. There are certain things, certain exalted ideas which I must not so much as approach as Prince S. has just reminded me, or I shall make you all laugh. I have no sense of proportion, I know; no appreciation of the proper; my words do not express my ideas fairly—they are a humiliation and abasement of the ideas, and therefore, I have no right—and I am—Still, I believe I am beloved in this household, and esteemed far more than I deserve. I can’t help knowing that after twenty years of illness there must be something left behind; so that it is impossible for people to refrain from laughing at me sometimes, don’t you think so?”

“Seriously? then are you a coward?” “N—no!—I don’t think so. A coward is a man who is afraid and runs away; the man who is frightened but does not run away, is not quite a coward,” said the prince with a smile, after a moment’s thought.

“If I had had the power to prevent my own birth I should certainly never consent to accept existence under such ridiculous conditions. However, I have the power to end my existence, although I do but lay down that which is already numbered and sentenced to annihilation. It is an insignificant power, and my revolt is equally insignificant.

They can be divided into two classes as all men are—that is: into those of very limited intellect, and those who are “much cleverer.” The former of these classes is the happier. To a commonplace man of limited wit, for instance, nothing is simpler than to imagine himself an original character, and to enjoy himself in that belief without the slightest mental doubt upon the matter.

As for Gania, I put it to you, can any man lead a composed and calm life after passing through what he has had to suffer?