Oh, dear

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The Demands of the Particular
Fyodor Dostoevsky

The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because hes too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I love humanity.

Thanks (I think) to The Daily Dig

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"In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because hes too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose."

oh, but ain't it the truth?

With me it's gone the other way. I can't love people in groups, or lumps of humanity. Only one at a time. Mr. Dostoevsky couldn't see the trees for the forest.

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This page contains a single entry by MamaT published on January 18, 2005 11:11 AM.

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