Fyodor Dostoevsky

“ Alyosha murmured.
"And did he despise me? Did he laugh at me?"
"No, for perhaps he believes in the pineapple compote himself. He is very ill now, too, Lise."
"Yes, he does believe in it," said Lise, with flashing eyes.
"He doesn't despise anyone," Alyosha went on. "Only he does not believe anyone. If he doesn't believe in people, of course, he does despise them."
"Then he despises me, me?"
"You, too."
"Good." Lise seemed to grind her teeth. "When he went out laughing, I felt that it was nice to be despised. The child with fingers cut off is nice, and to be despised is nice..." ”

“ Let me be rich and all the rest poor, I'll eat sweets and drink cream and not give any to anyone else. Ach, don't speak, don't say anything"; she shook her hand at him, though Alyosha had not opened his mouth. "You've told me all that before, I know it all by heart. It bores me. If I am ever poor, I shall murder somebody, and even if I am rich, I may murder someone, perhaps- why do nothing! ”

“ Lise laughed nervously again; she spoke rapidly.
"I sent your brother, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, some sweets in prison. Alyosha, you know, you are quite pretty! I shall love you awfully for having so quickly allowed me not to love you."
"Why did you send for me to-day, Lise?"
"I wanted to tell you of a longing I have. I should like some one to torture me, marry me and then torture me, deceive me and go away. I don't want to be happy."
"You are in love with disorder?"
"Yes, I want disorder. I keep wanting to set fire to the house. ”