Notes from Underground Quotes (Fyodor Dostoevsky) I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea. To love is to suffer and there can be no love otherwise. The pleasure of despair. But then, it is in despair that we find the most acute pleasure, especially when we are aware of the hopelessness of the situation... ...everything is a mess in which it is impossible to tell what's what, but that despite this impossibility and deception it still hurts you, and the less you can understand, the more it hurts. How can a man of consciousness have the slightest respect for himself 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. an intelligent man cannot become anything seriously, and it is only the fool who becomes anything. It is clear to me now that, owing to my unbounded vanity and to the high standard I set for myself, I often looked at myself with furious discontent, which verged on loathing, and so I inwardly attributed the same feeling to everyone. I tell you solemnly, that I have many times tried to become an insect. But I was not equal even to that. I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness- a real thorough-going illness. the whole work of man really seems to consist in nothing but proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not a piano-key! You see, gentlemen, reason is an excellent thing, there’s no disputing that, but reason is nothing but reason and satisfies only the rational side of man’s nature, while will is a manifestation of the whole life, that is, of the whole human life including reason and all the impulses. And although our life, in this manifestation of it, is often worthless, yet it is life and not simply extracting square roots. I admit that twice two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are to give everything its due, twice two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing too. But what can a decent man speak of with most pleasure? Answer: Of himself. Well, so I will talk about myself. Now answer me, sincerely, honestly, who lives past forty? I'll tell you who does: fools and scoundrels. The best definition of man is: a being that goes on two legs and is ungrateful

Теги других блогов: philosophy Fyodor Dostoevsky existentialism