If I didn't believe in life, if I lost faith in the woman I love, lost faith in the order of things, were convinced in fact that everything is a disorderly, damnable, and perhaps devil - ridden chaos, if I were struck by every horror of man's disillusionment - still I should want to live and, having once tasted of the cup, I would not turn away from it till I had drained it! ......................... and yet I know that I am only going to a grave-yard, but it is a most precious graveyard, that is what it is! Precious are the dead that lie there, every stone over them speaks of such burning life in the past, of such passionate faith in their work, their truth, their struggle and their science, that I know I shall fall on the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them,.................. I shall not weep from despair, but simply because I shall be happy in my tears, I shall steep my soul in my emotion. I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky - that's all it is. It is not a matter of intellect or logic, it is loving with one's inside! Fyodor Dostoyevsky Brothers Karamazov

.....You know it really is true that we are absurd, that we are shallow, have bad habits, that we are bored, that we don't know how to look at things, that we can't understand; we are all like that, all of us, you, I, and they! And you are not offended at my telling you to your faces that you are absurd? Are you? And, if that is so, aren't you good material? Do you know, to my thinking it's a good thing sometimes to be absurd; it is better in fact, it makes it easier to forgive one another, it is easier to become humble. One can't understand everything at once, we can't begin with perfection all at once! In order to reach perfection one must begin by being ignorant of a great deal. And if we understand things too quickly, perhaps we shan't understand them thoroughly. I say that to you who have been able to understand so much already and .....have failed to understand so much.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Idiot

There was no one in the summer-house. Alyosha sat down and began to wait. He looked round the summer-house, which somehow struck him as a great deal more ancient than before. Though the day was just fine as the day before, it seemed a wretched little place this time. There was a circle on the table, left no doubt from the glass of brandy having been spilt the day before. Foolish and irrelevant ideas strayed about his mind, as they always do in a time of tedious waiting. He wondered, for instance, why he had sat down precisely in the same place as before, why not in the other seat. At last he felt very depressed - depressed by suspense and uncertainty. But he had not sat there more than a quarter of an hour, when he suddenly heard the thrum of a guitar somewhere quite close. Fyodor Dostoyevsky Brothers Karamazov