Fyodor Dostoevsky Quotes

I'm not afraid of death. It's the stake one puts up in order to play the game of life.

Life is the game that must be played, this truth at least, good friends, we know; so live and laugh, nor be dismayed as one by one the phantoms go.

Nothing is a matter of life and death except life and death.

To be or not to be. That's not really a question.

Under each formula lies a corpse.

People who think dying is the worst thing don't know a thing about life.

What is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying.

She is Living and I'm Dead, but I'd like to believe we're both human. Call me an idealist.

And now brothers, I will ask you a terrible question, and God knows I ask it also of myself. Is the truth beyond all truths, beyond the stars, just this: that to live without him is the real death, that to die with him the only life?

Is death that which gives meaning to life?

life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

Someday stars will wind down or blow up. Someday death will cover us all like the water of a lake and perhaps nothing will ever come to the surface to show that we were ever there. But we WERE there, and during the time we lived, we were alive. That's the truth - what is, what was, what will be - not what could be, what should have been, what never can be.

Death: Human beings make life so interesting. Do you know, that in a universe so full of wonders, they have managed to invent boredom.

I don't know if I was put on this Earth for a purpose or not. But I'm fairly confident that I'll be taken off of it for one.

Everybody has to die, Firdaus. I will die, and you will die. The important thing is how to live until you die.

Why should I live? Why should I do anything? Is there in life any purpose which the inevitable death that awaits me does not undo and destroy?

Do you believe in immortality? No, and one life is enough for me.

We are all subject to the fates. But we must all act as if we are not, or die of despair...death will sweep through all the worlds; it will be the triumph of despair, forever. The universes will all become nothing more than interlocking machines, blind and empty of thought, feeling, life...

This world is nothing. An illusion. Death is the release.

What is our life but a succession of preludes to that unknown song whose first solemn note is sounded by death?

Is death that which gives meaning to life? And I said, no, life is that which gives meaning to life.

We can tell the world that there is life after death, but the world really seems to be wondering if there is life before death.

I live to die; better that than to live a lie.

Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bullfighters.