“I repeat, I repeat with emphasis: all "direct" persons and men of action are active just because they are stupid and limited. How explain that? I will tell you: in consequence of their limitation they take immediate and secondary causes for primary ones, and in that way persuade themselves more quickly and easily than other people do that they have found an infallible foundation for their activity, and their minds are at ease and you know that is the chief thing.”

“I am sorry I can say nothing more to console you, for love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in the sight of all. Men will even give their lives if only the ordeal does not last long but is soon over, with all looking on and applauding as though on stage. But active love is labor and fortitude, and for some people too, perhaps, a complete science.”

“...For active love is a harsh and fearful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams thirsts for immediate action, quickly performed, and with everyone watching. Indeed, it will go as far as the giving even of one's life, provided it does not take long but is soon over, as on stage, and everyone is looking on and praising. Whereas active love is labor and perseverance, and for some people, perhaps, a whole science.”

“I suspect gentlemen, that you're regarding me with pity; you keep repeating to me that an enlightened and cultured man -- such as, in short, as the man of the future will be -- cannot knowingly desire anything unprofitable for himself -- that that's mathematics. I agree totally that it really is mathematics. But I repeat to you for the hundredth time: there is only one case, only one, when a man can intentionally and consciously desire for himself even what is harmful and stupid, even what is extremely stupid: namely, in order to have the right to desire for himself even what is extremely stupid and not be constrained by the obligation to desire for himself only what is intelligent.”

“I do not wish you much happiness--it would bore you; I do not wish you trouble either; but, following the people's philosophy, I will simply repeat: 'Live more' and try somehow not to be too bored; this useless wish I am adding on my own.”

“Oh, I know, I know that heart, that wild but grateful heart, gentlemen of the jury! It will bow before your mercy; it thirsts for a great and loving action, it will melt and mount upwards. There are souls which, in their limitation, blame the whole world. But subdue such a soul with mercy, show it love, and it will curse its past, for there are many good impulses in it. Such a heart will expand and see that God is merciful and that men are good and just. He will be horror-stricken; he will be crushed by remorse and the vast obligation laid upon him henceforth. And he will not say then, 'I am quits,' but will say, 'I am guilty in the sight of all men and am more unworthy than all.' With tears of penitence and poignant, tender anguish, he will exclaim: 'Others are better than I, they wanted to save me, not to ruin me!”

“There is nothing so annoying as to be fairly rich, of a fairly good family,pleasing presence, average education, to be "not stupid," kindhearted,and yet to have no talent at all, no originality, not a single ideaof one's own—to be, in fact, "just like everyone else."Of such people there are countless numbers in this world—far moreeven than appear. They can be divided into two classes as all mencan—that is, those of limited intellect, and those who are much cleverer.The former of these classes is the happier.To a commonplace man of limited intellect, for instance, nothing issimpler than to imagine himself an original character, and to revel in thatbelief without the slightest misgiving.Many of our young women have thought fit to cut their hair short, puton blue spectacles, and call themselves Nihilists. By doing this they havebeen able to persuade themselves, without further trouble, that theyhave acquired new convictions of their own. Some men have but feltsome little qualm of kindness towards their fellow-men, and the fact hasbeen quite enough to persuade them that they stand alone in the van ofenlightenment and that no one has such humanitarian feelings as they.Others have but to read an idea of somebody else's, and they can immediatelyassimilate it and believe that it was a child of their own brain.The "impudence of ignorance," if I may use the expression, is developedto a wonderful extent in such cases;—unlikely as it appears, it is metwith at every turn.... those belonged to the other class—to the "much cleverer"persons, though from head to foot permeated and saturated withthe longing to be original. This class, as I have said above, is far lesshappy. For the "clever commonplace" person, though he may possiblyimagine himself a man of genius and originality, none the less has withinhis heart the deathless worm of suspicion and doubt; and this doubtsometimes brings a clever man to despair. (As a rule, however, nothingtragic happens;—his liver becomes a little damaged in the course of time,nothing more serious. Such men do not give up their aspirations afteroriginality without a severe struggle,—and there have been men who,though good fellows in themselves, and even benefactors to humanity,have sunk to the level of base criminals for the sake of originality)”