Dostoevsky
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky was a Russian novelist, short story writer, essayist, and journalist. His literary works explore human psychology in the troubled political, social, and spiritual atmospheres of 19th-century Russia, and engage with a variety of philosophical and religious themes. His most acclaimed novels include Crime and Punishment (1866), The Idiot (1869), Demons (1872), and The Brothers Karamazov (1880).
Many literary critics rate him as one of the greatest novelists in all of world literature, as multiple of his works are considered highly influential masterpieces. His 1864 novella Notes from Underground is considered to be one of the first works of existentialist literature. As such, he is also looked upon as a philosopher and theologian as well.
(Russian: Фёдор Михайлович Достоевский) (see also Fiodor Dostoïevski)
“В том-то и дело, что умный «обыкновенный» человек, даже если б и воображал себя мимоходом (а пожалуй, и во всю свою жизнь) человеком гениальным и оригинальнейшим, тем не менее сохраняет в сердце своем червячка сомнения, который доводит до того, что умный человек кончает иногда совершенным отчаянием; если же и покоряется, то уже совершенно отравившись вогнанным внутрь тщеславием. Впрочем, мы во всяком случае взяли крайность: в огромном большинстве этого умного разряда людей дело происходит вовсе не так трагически; портится разве под конец лет печенка, более или менее, вот и все.”
“I am not a scoundrel, but I'm broadminded.”
“...if it had to be shame, then let it be shame; if it had to be disgrace, then let it be disgrace; if it had to be degradation, then let it be degradation--the worse the better!”
“You don't need free will to determine that twice two is four. That's not what I call free will.”
“You ask yourself: where are your dreams now? And you shake your head and say how swiftly the years fly by! And you ask yourself again: what have you done with your best years, then? Where have you buried the best days of your life? Have you lived or not? Look, you tell yourself, look how cold the world is becoming. The years will pass and after them will come grim loneliness, and old age, quaking on its stick, and after them misery and despair. Your fantasy world will grow pale, your dreams will fade and die, falling away like the yellow leaves from the trees… Ah, Nastenka! Will it not be miserable to be left alone, utterly alone, and have nothing even to regret — nothing, not a single thing… because everything I have lost was nothing, stupid, a round zero, all dreaming and no more!”