#dostoevskynatural

[skyborneveggie]

    —The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky

Dostoevsky Edit [4/∞]

[skyborneveggie]

I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing why. I love some great deeds done by men, though I've long ceased perhaps to have faith in them, yet from old habit one's heart prizes them... And yet I know that I am only going to a graveyard, but it's a most precious graveyard, that's what it is! Precious are the dead that lie there, every stone over them speaks of such burning life in the past, of such passionate faith in their work, their truth, their struggle and their science, that I know I shall fall on the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them; though I'm convinced in my heart that it's long been nothing but a graveyard.  And I shall not weep from despair, but simply because I shall be happy in my tears, I shall steep my soul in emotion. I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky—that's all it is. It's not a matter of intellect or logic, it's loving with one's inside, with one's stomach.

    —The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky

Dostoevsky Edit [2/∞]

[skyborneveggie]

Let me be cursed, let me be base and vile, but let me also kiss the hem of that garment in which my God is clothed; let me be following the devil at the same time, but still I am also your son.

    —The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky

Dostoevsky Edit [3/∞]

[skyborneveggie]

My brother asked the birds to forgive him: that sounds senseless, but it is right; for all is like an ocean, all flows and connects; touch it in one place and it echoes at the other end of the world. It may be senseless to beg forgiveness of the birds, but birds would be happier at your side -a little happier, anyway- and children and all animals, if you yourself were nobler than you are now. It’s all like an ocean, I tell you. Then you would pray to the birds too, consumed by an all-embracing love in a sort of transport, and pray that they too will forgive you your sin.

    —The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky

Dostoevsky Edit [1/∞]