Razumikhin Quotes

It was dark in the corridor; they were standing near a light. For a minute they looked silently at each other. Razumikhin remembered that minute all his life. Raskolnikov's burning and fixed look seemed to grow more intense every moment, penetrating his soul, his consciousness. All at once Razumikhin gave a start. Something strange seemed to pass between them . . . as if the hint of some idea, something horrible, hideous, flitted by and was suddenly understood on both sides . . . Razumikhin turned pale as a corpse. "You understand now?

To go wrong in your own way is better than to go right in someone else's.

I like people talking nonsense. Talking nonsense is humanity's only privilege over the rest of creation. If you talk nonsense, you'll find your way to the truth! Talking nonsense is what makes me human. No one ever found his way to the truth without first getting things wrong fourteen times, or even a hundred and fourteen times, and that's a good thing in its way; the trouble is we're not even capable of getting things wrong with our own brains! You can talk nonsense to me, if it's nonsense of your own, and I'll kiss you for it. Talking nonsense of your own-that's almost better than talking someone else's truth; in the first case you're human, in the second you're nothing but a parrot! Truth won't go away, but life can get choked up; we've seen that happen. Well, what are we now? In science, progress, thought, invention, ideals, desires, liberalism, judgement, experience, and all, all, all, all, all of it, we're every one of us, without exception, still stuck in the first, pre-preparatory class of high school! We've got fond of living off other people's ideas, and now we're addicted to it! Isn't that right? Isn't it?' cried Razumikhin, shaking and squeezing both ladies' arms. 'Isn't that so?

Zamyotov.” “Zamyotov?… The clerk?… What for?” Raskolnikov quickly turned and fixed his eyes on Razumikhin. “But what’s wrong with … Why be so worried? He wanted to make your acquaintance; he wanted it himself, because I talked about you a lot with him … Otherwise, who would have told me so much about you? He’s a nice fellow, brother, quite a wonderful one … in his own way, naturally. We’re friends now; we see each other almost every day. Because I’ve moved into this neighborhood. You didn’t know yet? I’ve just moved. We’ve called on Laviza twice. Remember Laviza, Laviza Ivanovna?” “Was I raving about something?” “Sure enough! You were out of your mind, sir.” “What did I rave about?” “Come now! What did he rave about? You know what people rave about … Well, brother, let’s not waste any more time. To business!” He got up from his chair and grabbed his cap. “What did I rave about?” “You just won’t let go! Afraid about some secret, are you? Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything about the countess. But about some bulldog, and about

They’ll find me! Razumikhin will find me. I should run away completely … far away … to America and to hell with them!

Dunya!’ Raskolnikov stopped her, getting up and walking towards her. ‘This Razumikhin, Dmitry Prokofich, is a very good man.’ Dunya coloured slightly. ‘And?’ she asked after waiting a minute or so. ‘He’s a business-like, hard-working, honest man, capable of great love … Goodbye, Dunya.

Dunya, dearest! If I’m guilty, forgive me (although if I’m guilty, I cannot be forgiven). Goodbye! Let’s not argue! I can’t stay a moment longer. Don’t come after me, I beg you. I’ve another visit to make … Go now and be with mother. Please, I beg you! It’s the last and biggest thing I ask you. Don’t leave her for a moment. I’ve left her too worried to cope: she’ll either die or go mad. Stay with her! You’ll have Razumikhin with you. I told him … Don’t weep for me: I’ll try to be a man, and honest, for the rest of my life, even though I’m a murderer. One day, perhaps, you’ll hear my name. I won’t shame you, you’ll see. I’ll still prove … but for the time being, goodbye,’ he hurriedly concluded, noticing once again a strange expression in Dunya’s eyes at these final words and promises. ‘Why are you crying like that? Don’t cry, don’t! We’re not parting forever … Oh yes, wait! I forgot!

N-nothing is admitted!” Razumikhin interrupted hotly. “I’m not lying!… I’ll show you their books: with them one is always a ‘victim of the environment’—and nothing else! Their favorite phrase! Hence directly that if society itself is normally set up, all crimes will at once disappear, because there will be no reason for protesting and everyone will instantly become righteous. Nature isn’t taken into account, nature is driven out, nature is not supposed to be! With them it’s not mankind developing all along in a historical, living way that will finally turn by itself into a normal society, but, on the contrary, a social system, coming out of some mathematical head, will at once organize the whole of mankind and instantly make it righteous and sinless, sooner than any living process, without any historical and living way! That’s why they have such an instinctive dislike of history: ‘there’s nothing in it but outrage and stupidity’—and everything is explained by stupidity alone! That’s why they so dislike the living process of life: there’s no need for the living soul! The living soul will demand life, the living soul won’t listen to mechanics, the living soul is suspicious, the living soul is retrograde! While here, though there may be a whiff of carrion, and it may all be made out of rubber—still it’s not alive, still it has no will, still it’s slavish, it won’t rebel! And it turns out in the end that they’ve reduced everything to mere brickwork and the layout of corridors and rooms in a phalanstery!7 The phalanstery may be all ready, but your nature isn’t ready for the phalanstery, it wants life, it hasn’t completed the life process yet, it’s too soon for the cemetery! You can’t overleap nature with logic alone! Logic will presuppose three cases, when there are a million of them! Cut away the whole million, and reduce everything to the one question of comfort! The easiest solution to the problem! Enticingly clear, and there’s no need to think! Above all, there’s no need to think! The whole of life’s mystery can fit on two printed pages!

Listen, Razumikhin,’ Raskolnikov began quietly, with a semblance of perfect calm, ‘why can’t you see that I don’t want your good deeds? And why this urge to bestow your kindness on people who … spit in reply? For whom this is more than they can bear? I mean, why did you have to look me up when I fell ill? What if I were only too happy to die? Didn’t I make it clear enough to you today that you’re tormenting me, that I’m … sick and tired of you? Why this urge to torment people? It doesn’t help my recovery at all, I assure you. In fact, it’s a constant irritation.

He knows his lines!' said Raskolnikov suddenly. 'I'm sorry?' asked Pyotr Petrovich, unsure of what had been said. He received no reply. 'All perfectly reasonable,' Zosimov hastened to put in. 'Isn't it, though?' Pyotr Petrovich went on, glancing with satisfaction at Zosimov. 'Wouldn't you agree,' he continued, addressing Razumikhin, but with a new, triumphant note of superiority, to the point that he very nearly added 'young man' [...]

Razumikhin ạ, - Raxkonikov nói khẽ và hình như hoàn toàn điềm tĩnh, - chả nhẽ cậu không thấy rằng tôi không cần đến những ân huệ của cậu hay sao? Việc gì lại đi làm ơn làm phúc cho những kẻ… không thèm những thứ ấy? Mà lại là những kẻ rất khổ tâm khi phải chịu đựng những thứ ấy? Khi tôi mới ốm, cậu đi tìm tôi để làm gì? Nhỡ tôi chỉ mong được chết thì sao? Chẳng lẽ thái độ của tôi hôm nay chưa đủ cho cậu thấy rằng cậu làm khổ tôi, rằng tôi đã… phát ngấy lên vì cậu hay sao? Sao lại cứ muốn đến làm khổ người ta như thế. Tôi quả quyết với cậu là những thứ đó làm cho bệnh tình của tôi rất khó thuyên giảm, vì nó cứ làm tôi khích động không ngớt. Hồi nãy Zamiotov chả bỏ đi để tôi khỏi khích động là gì? Cậu nữa, tôi van cậu, cậu cũng đi đi! Và sau nữa, cậu có quyền gì mà dám dùng sức mạnh để giữ tôi lại? Chẳng lẽ cậu lại không thấy rằng tôi đang nói chuyện với cậu một cách hoàn toàn tỉnh táo hay sao? Tôi phải làm gì đấy, tôi biết lấy gì đây, tôi van cậu, cậu hãy nói cho tôi biết tôi phải làm gì để cậu khỏi ám tôi, cho cậu khỏi làm ơn làm phúc cho tôi? Cứ cho tôi là bạc bẽo, tôi hèn hạ cũng được miễn là buông tôi ra, vì Chúa, hãy để cho tôi yên! Đi đi, đi đi!