The Brothers Karamazov: A Novel in Four Parts With Epilogue

Pyotr Alexandrovich Miusov,

Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart.

So, now I see you, and you don’t look sick at all! God be with you, really, you’ll live another twenty years! With all the people you’ve got praying for you, how could you be sick!”

For monks are not a different sort of men, but only such as all men on earth ought also to be.

Remember them thus in your prayers: save, Lord, those whom there is no one to pray for, save also those who do not want to pray to you.

He was seldom playful, seldom even merry, but anyone could see at once, at a glance, that this was not from any kind of sullenness, that, on the contrary, he was serene and even-tempered.

“Lord have mercy on them all today, unhappy and stormy as they are, preserve and guide them. All ways are yours: save them according to your ways. You are love, you will send joy to all!”

‘If there is no immortality of the soul, then there is no virtue, and therefore everything is permitted.’

Pouring out their foolish tears, they will finally acknowledge that he who created them rebels no doubt intended to laugh at them.