My God, but what do I care about the laws of nature and arithmetic if for some reason these laws and two times two is four are not to my liking? To be sure, I won't break through such a wall with my forehead if I really have not got strength to do it, but neither will I be reconciled with it simply because I have a stone wall here and have not got strength enough.
ah o Sonya! Ne güzel bir hazine bulmuşlar! Güzel güzel yararlanıyorlar! Alışmışlar. Önce biraz ağladılar, ama alıştılar şimdi. Aşağılık insanoğlu her şeye alışır!
Ya yanılıyorsam, ya gerçekte aşağılık değise insanoğlu, genelde yani, tümü, bütün insanlık soyu demek istiyorum... Geri kalan her şey önyargıdan başka bir şey değilse, abartılmış birer korkuysa, hiçbir sınırlama yoksa, ki öyle olması da gerekir!..
Nonetheless, a question remains before us all the same: what is a novelist to do with ordinary, completely "usual" people, and how can he present them to the reader so as to make them at least somewhat interesting? To bypass them altogether in a story is quite impossible, because ordinary people are constantly and for the most part the necessary links in the chain of everyday events; in bypassing them we would thus violate plausibility. To fill novels with nothing but types or even simply, for the sake of interest, with strange and nonexistent people, would be implausible--and perhaps uninteresting as well.
Знаете, я не понимаю, как можно проходить мимо дерева и не быть счастливым, что видишь его? Говорить с человеком и не быть счастливым, что любишь его! О, я только не умею высказать…
My God, but what do I care about the laws of nature and arithmetic if for some reason these laws and two times two is four are not to my liking? To be sure, I won't break through such a wall with my forehead if I really have not got strength to do it, but neither will I be reconciled with it simply because I have a stone wall here and have not got strength enough.
ah o Sonya! Ne güzel bir hazine bulmuşlar! Güzel güzel yararlanıyorlar! Alışmışlar. Önce biraz ağladılar, ama alıştılar şimdi. Aşağılık insanoğlu her şeye alışır!
Düşüncelere dalmıştı Raskolnikov. elinde olmadan haykırdı birden
Ya yanılıyorsam, ya gerçekte aşağılık değise insanoğlu, genelde yani, tümü, bütün insanlık soyu demek istiyorum... Geri kalan her şey önyargıdan başka bir şey değilse, abartılmış birer korkuysa, hiçbir sınırlama yoksa, ki öyle olması da gerekir!..
А в самом деле: вот я теперь уж от себя задаю один праздный вопрос: что лучше — дешёвое ли счастие или возвышенные страдания? Ну-ка, что лучше?
Crime? What crime? ... My killing a loathsome, harmful louse, a filthy old moneylender woman ... and you call that a crime?
Nonetheless, a question remains before us all the same: what is a novelist to do with ordinary, completely "usual" people, and how can he present them to the reader so as to make them at least somewhat interesting? To bypass them altogether in a story is quite impossible, because ordinary people are constantly and for the most part the necessary links in the chain of everyday events; in bypassing them we would thus violate plausibility. To fill novels with nothing but types or even simply, for the sake of interest, with strange and nonexistent people, would be implausible--and perhaps uninteresting as well.
I have noticed that in a cramped space one's thoughts too tend to be cramped.
О, что такое горе?
Знаете, я не понимаю, как можно проходить мимо дерева и не быть счастливым, что видишь его? Говорить с человеком и не быть счастливым, что любишь его! О, я только не умею высказать…