Character: Pyotr Stepanovich Verkhovensky

Compose see your face, Stavrogin; I always write, when they come in. More gloom, and only, nothing else; a very simple thing.

Honest truth of the lie.

... I also sometimes laugh - and this is precious. Yes they are, I now forgive you for having been one that sage made there proclamations were here more stupid than themselves, isn't it? In your smile I see, I approve.

... as this gift of talent I already have natural, why not to use them artificially? I use it. However, if you are going here, I had thought at first to be silent; but silence is a big talent, and, therefore, I'm indecent, and secondly, silence is still dangerous after all; well, I finally decided that the best way to say it, but that's incompetent, then there are many, many, many, really take the time to prove and in the end always to be entangled in their own evidence, so that the listener away from you without end, spreading his arms, and all would be better off spitting. Out, first, that you are assured in its simplicity, very tired and it was incomprehensible - three advantages all at once! Excuse me, who then will be to suspect you of mysterious designs?

Starting here, I mean here, in this city, ten days ago, I decided to take the role. The best would be completely without a role, his own face, isn't it? There's nothing trickier, like your own face, because no one would believe. I must admit I wanted to take a fool because a fool is easier than a private person; but as the fool is still extreme, and the extreme excites curiosity, I stopped on his own face completely.

Remaining silent is a great talent.

And why I say a lot of words and I don't get it? Because cannot speak. Those who know how to speak well, those briefly.

There are things that not only can not speculate, but about which and start to say something stupid.

...not you ate the idea, and you ate the idea.