Character: Basil Pozdnishev

"Shut up!" - I shouted, feeling comes that terrible fight in which I want to myself or to kill her. I would like to resist, but the anger covers your whole being, and she purposely peretasoval every word, giving it a false value. Every word soaked in venom. Where only she knows that hurts me there she stabs.

A person uses all uses constantly, not soberly, uncontrollably. Animal saturated. Animal, animal knows abstinence, and the person never. He is insatiable, not temperate in all things, and this is his destruction, and all mankind. For the sake of personal short benefits person can destroy everything and everyone.

- Vice? What is a Vice? After all, you did say, if I understand you correctly, about the most natural human property, needs even. Mmm..?
- Naturally? Naturally? Well, need. I will tell you the opposite. I came to the conclusion that it is not natural, not naturally made. Of course there are, there are happy and nice and easy, and not ashamed from the start. And here is disgusting and embarrassing and painful, no, it's not natural. What a shame - can't be natural for a human being.

Our first fight happened on the third or fourth day. I called it a fight, but it was not a fight, it was the discovery of the abyss that really existed between us. Love was exhausted by the satisfaction of sensuality and we were against each other in our true relation to each other. Two completely alien to each other's selfish, wanting to get as much pleasure for themselves one over the other, but I didn't understand it.

True, the worst, lowest depravity is to liberate oneself from the moral relations to women, which are in physical communication.

We have people getting married, not seeing marriage nothing but copulation, and other enjoyable pleasures and everyday comforts. That's when it happens or fraud, or violence. Well, when cheating, it is easier to bear. The husband and wife are deceiving people that they are in monogamy, and live in polygamy and polyandry. This is bad, but it's still going. But when, as is often the case, the husband and wife gave external commitment to live life together, and from the second month start to hate each other, secretly want to break up, but live, and then it happens that a terrible hell from which to drink, shoot themselves, kill themselves and each other.

- And, most importantly, that you do not understand these people that marriage without love is not marriage. And that only love consecrates marriage. And that marriage is true, this is the one that sanctifies love.
- What kind of love? You'll excuse me, excuse me, what's love sanctifies marriage?
True! True! If there is this love between a man and a woman, possible marriage.
- What do you mean by true love? <...>
- Very simple. Love... Love is an exclusive preference for one or one before the other.
- Yes, absolutely right! But the preference for how long? For a month? For a year? On two days? Huh? For half an hour? <...>
- For how long? For a long time, for life sometimes.
- Fair. But this is only in the novels, but the romances in life ever. In life this preference for one over all the years that very rarely, more often for months, and then weeks, days, hours. <...>
- Oh, it's awful that you're talking about! But I think there is between people the feeling that is called love and which is given not for months or years, but for life?
- No, no. Assuming even that the man and would prefer a famous woman for life, the woman, in all probability, will prefer the other, so it was there in the world and will be! <...>
- But you're talking about carnal love. And you don't allow love based on the unity of ideals, on a spiritual affinity?
Spiritual affinity! The unity of ideals! But in this case there is no need, excuse me for being rude, to sleep together.

- Gentlemen, gentlemen! Have you read the latest novel of count Tolstoy?
- No, what?
- Before a finish that preaches celibacy.
- Here is how? And I have two daughters of the bride. What it is now, the poor girls to do?
- Before the termination of the human race agrees...
What a pity that our Russian writers so soon lose my mind! Why is this?