A Hero of Our Time

, and whom I will never marry. Why this woman-like coquetry? Vera loves me more than Princess Mary ever will. Had I r

outh, flinging us from one woman to another until we find one who cannot endure us. And then begins our constancy-that sincere, unending passion which may be expresse

taking all this trouble?-Envy

ing which causes us to destroy the sweet illusions of our neighbour in order to have t

theless, that I dine, sup, and sleep very peacefully, and I s

with me, ambition has been repressed by circumstances, but it has emerged in another form, because ambition is nothing more nor less than a thirst for power, and my chief pleasure is to make everything that surrounds me subject to my will. To arouse the feeling of love, devotion and awe towards oneself-is not that the first sign, and the greatest triumph, of power? To be the cause of suffering and joy to another-without in the least possessing any definite right to be so-is not that the sweetest food for our pride? And what is happiness?-Satisfied pride. Were I to consider myself the best, the most powerful man in the world, I should be happy; were all to love me,

throughout its way to the sea. That quietness, however, is frequently the sign of great, though latent, strength. The fulness and depth of feelings and thoughts do not admit of frenzied outbursts. In suffering and in enjoyment the soul renders itself a strict account of all it experiences and co

... But what matter?... You see, it is for myself that I am writing this diary, and, co

.

elf upon my neck; he has been promoted to be an office

ulate you," he sa

y n

form, made by one of the local tailors, will not add anything of interest to you... Do you

dded Grushnitski in a whisper to me, "how many hopes these epaulettes have lent me... Oh!..

us on our walk to the

show myself to Princess Mary

e to inform her o

ord... I want to giv

how are you gett

have bragged and told lies, but his conscience would not let h

hink? Does she

!... How could she possibly love me so soon?... And a wel

inion, a well-bred man should also kee

doing everything; often things may rema

yes does not pledge a woman to anything, whilst word

heavenward and smiling complacently

his de

erous company set off

ituated on a slope of Mount Mashuk, at the distance of a verst from the town, and is approached by a narrow path between bru

cquaintances; at first I exposed their ridiculous, and then their bad, sides. My choler rose. I

than under your tongue... In all earnestness I beg of you: when it comes into your mind to speak evil

an assassin

re wor

moment; then, assuming a

buried my best feelings in the depths of my heart, and there they died. I spoke the truth-I was not believed: I began to deceive. Having acquired a thorough knowledge of the world and the springs of society, I grew skilled in the science of life; and I saw how others without skill were happy, enjoying gratuitously the advantages which I so unweariedly sought. Then despair was born within my breast-not that despair which is cured at the muzzle of a pistol, but the cold, powerless despair concealed beneath the mask of amiability and a good-natured smile. I became a moral cripple. One half of my soul ceased to exist

were aflame; she pitied me! Sympathy-a feeling to which all women yield so easily, had dug its talons into her inexp

isms of the local dandies failed to make her laugh; the steepness of the declivity beside which she

y conversation, but to my idle questions and j

en in love?" I as

tural! A muslin sleeve is a weak protection, and an electric spark was running from my arm to hers. Almost all passions have their beginning in that way, and frequently we are very much deceived in thinking

t?" Princess Mary said to me, with a forced

epar

e accuses herself of coldness... Oh,

recompense me. I know the whole proceeding