Quote of the day…


“I could not become anything; neither good nor bad; neither a scoundrel nor an honest man; neither a hero nor an insect. And now I am eking out my days in my corner, taunting myself with the bitter and entirely useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot seriously become anything, that only a fool can become something.”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Comments

  1. disco ball world says:

    Sigh.

    I fear this is true. Why though? Is it because an intelligent soul recognizes moderation and practicallity as virtues and so is reluctant to give into the passionate episodes of joie de vivre or esprit de corps that typically accompany “something”?

    • bigfatfurrytexan says:

      My take? because the state of nirvana precludes accepting that you are anything other than a figment.

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