Summary

Portrait of Fyodor Dostoevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov — Part I, Book III, Chapter 4 (1880)

This game only tickled that insect lust I cherished in my soul. Five months later she married an official and left the town, still angry, and still, perhaps, in love with me. Now they live happily. Observe that I told no one. I didn't boast of it. Though I'm full of low desires, and love what's low, I'm not dishonourable. You're blushing; your eyes flashed. Enough of this filth with you. And all this was nothing much—wayside blossoms a la Paul de Kock—though the cruel insect had already grown strong in my soul.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Fyodor Dostoevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov — Part I, Book III, Chapter 4 (1880)

Father said just now that I spent several thousand roubles in seducing young girls. That's a swinish invention, and there was nothing of the sort. And if there was, I didn't need money simply for that. With me money is an accessory, the overflow of my heart, the framework. To-day she would be my lady, to-morrow a wench out of the streets in her place. I entertained them both. I threw away money by the handful on music, rioting, and Gypsies. Sometimes I gave it to the ladies, too, for they'll take it greedily, that must be admitted, and be pleased and thankful for it.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Fyodor Dostoevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov — Part I, Book III, Chapter 4 (1880)

She shuddered all over, gazed at me for a second, turned horribly pale-white as a sheet, in fact—and all at once, not impetuously but softly, gently, bowed down to my feet—not a boarding-school curtsey, but a Russian bow, with her forehead to the floor. She jumped up and ran away. I was wearing my sword. I drew it and nearly stabbed myself with it on the spot; why, I don't know. It would have been frightfully stupid, of course. I suppose it was from delight. Can you understand that one might kill oneself from delight?
Source: Wikisource

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