Character: Dmitri Karamazov

- I, brother, are very uneducated. But I do a lot of thinking. That's the beauty... It, brother, is a terrible thing. That the mind seems a shame that to heart entirely beauty. You knew it or not?
- No, I didn't.
- No wide man, even too broad. I would have narrowed. God knows what it is, that's what! Awful and Alyosha that beauty is not only terrible... but also a mysterious thing! Here the devil is struggling with God. And the battlefield is the hearts of the people.

To love is not to love. It is possible to love and hate!

Bless you, sweet boy, someday the woman he loved, his guilt to ask for forgiveness! From one you love especially, however fault! Because the woman is, brother, God knows what, so that I at least know a lot about! Well, try before to confess her fault "to blame they say, sorry, sorry": and then it will go the hail of reproaches! Never forgive you simply and directly, and humiliate you to the rags, subtracts what was not even, take everything, do not forget, your add, and then just forgive. And this is the best, the best of them! The last scrapings will myscribe and all your head will lay down - so, I'll tell you givedirect sitting in them, in every single one of these angels, without which to live is something we cannot! You see, my dear, I frankly and just say, every decent person should be under the Shoe at least some women. That is my belief; not belief, and feeling. A man should be generous, and a man is not a mess. Even the name not to mess with Caesar not to mess with!

Beauty is a terrible and awful thing! Terrible because is undetectable and can not be determined because God made some puzzles.

And what is suffering? Not afraid of him, though it was countless. Not anymore, before was afraid. You know, I can be I'm not going to respond to the court... And it seems so much in me this power now that I will fight, all the suffering, only to say and to tell myself every moment: I am! In a thousand torments - I am, writhing in torture - but I am! In the pillar sitting, but I exist, the sun to see, and not see the sun, you know what it is. And know that there is the sun - it is the whole life.

No wide man, even too broad, I would have narrowed.

Falling in love is not to love: to love you and hate.

All real Russian people are philosophers...