“After all, I love him tremendously. When I am in his arms, nothing else matters.”

“You still love me? After all I have done?” she asked, her voice breaking.“It doesn’t matter. Nothing that has happened matters. I am here now, and I love you.”

“My dad’s contentment is all that matters to me. When he’s laughing, I’m laughing. When he’s happy, I’m happy. I would give up my soul for him. To me, nothing else but his happiness matters.”

“The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.”

“Bow or not? Call back or not? Recognize him or not?" our hero wondered in indescribable anguish, "or pretend that I am not myself, but somebody else strikingly like me, and look as though nothing were the matter. Simply not I, not I—and that's all," said Mr. Golyadkin, taking off his hat to Andrey Filippovitch and keeping his eyes fixed upon him. "I'm . . . I'm all right," he whispered with an effort; "I'm . . . quite all right. It's not I, it's not I—and that is the fact of the matter.”

“When you get . . . to the end, you see that love and family are all there is. Nothing else matters.”