Dostojevski Quotes & Sayings

The Infinite has to be a relative concept. Go any distance: an infinite space means that there is more to be explored. — Joseph Silk

Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke. I collect stuffed penguins. If you won't tell, I won't. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Pity is an emotion equally unpleasant to the bestower as to the recipient. — Boleslaw Prus

To such beings, such fugitive beings, their own nature and our anxiety fasten wings. And even when they are with us the look in their eyes seems to warn us that they are about to take flight. The proof of this beauty itself, that wings add is that often, for us, the same person is alternately winged and wingless. — Marcel Proust

I believe benchmarking best practices can open people's eyes as to what is possible, but it can also do more harm than good, leading to piecemeal copying and playing catch-up. As one seasoned Toyota manager commented after hosting over a hundred tours for visiting executives, "They always say 'Oh yes, you have a Kan-Ban system, we do also. You have quality circles, we do also. Your people fill out standard work descriptions, ours do also.' They all see the parts and have copied the parts. What they do not see is the way all the parts work together." I do not believe great organizations have ever been built by trying to emulate another, any more than individual greatness is achieved by trying to copy another "great person. — Peter M. Senge

Sales is an experiment - there's no right or wrong, just varying degrees of effectiveness. Our job is to constantly seek ways we can increase our effectiveness. — Jill Konrath

To love, you have to admit your lack, and recognise that you need the other, that you miss him or her. — Jacques-Alain Miller

I think abstraction is a very rich area. And it is upsetting that people seem to have some fear of it. I'm constantly making these statements about how you should just look at it and react to it on your own; just relax and let go. — Brice Marden

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. — Emily Bronte

I am naked and a beggar and an atom in the vortex of humanity. — Fjodor Dostojevski