Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.
Fyodor DostoevskyRead
"I love mankind," he said, "but I find to my amazement that the more I love mankind as a whole, the less I love man in particular."
Interpretation
Loving humanity as a whole can lead to a diminished ability to love individual people.
This quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky reflects a paradox in human emotion where the idealistic love for humanity may clash with the more personal and often disappointing experiences of interacting with individuals. It suggests that while one may have grand aspirations for humanity, the realities of individual flaws can create frustration and hinder personal connections.
In practice
Using this quote in a discussion about the challenges of social activism.
Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.
What if, when this fog scatters and flies upward, the whole rotten, slimey city goes with it, rises with the fog and vanishes like smoke.
Love the animals: God has given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled.
Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.
But do you understand, I cry to him, do you understand that if you have the guillotine in the forefront, and with such glee, it's for the sole reason that cutting heads off is the easiest thing, and having an idea is difficult!
...to return to their 'native soil,' as they say, to the bosom, so to speak, of their mother earth, like frightened children, yearning to fall asleep on the withered bosom of their decrepit mother, and to sleep there for ever, only to escape the horrors that terrify them.
The way to deal with superstition is not to be polite to it, but to tackle it with all arms, and so rout it, cripple it, and make it forever infamous and ridiculous. Is it, perchance, cherished by persons who should know better? Then their folly should be brought out into the light of day, and exhibited there in all its hideousness until they flee from it, hiding their heads in shame.
Free will without fate is no more conceivable than spirit without matter, good without evil.
Death comes to me again, a girl in a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling. Itβs not so terrible she tells me, not like you think, all darkness and silence. There are windchimes and the smell of lemons, some days it rains, but more often the air is dry and sweet. I sit beneath the staircase built from hair and bone and listen to the voices of the living. I like it, she says, shaking the dust from her hair, especially when they fight, and when they sing.
How can He be perfect? Everything He ever makes...dies.
A bad review is even less important than whether it is raining in Patagonia.
Seal the openings, shut the doors, dull the sharpness, untie the knots, dim the light, become one with the dust. This is called the profound union.
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