. The devil only knows what to make of
it! What to the mind is shameful is beauty and nothing else to the heart.
Is there beauty in Sodom? Believe me, that for the immense mass of mankind
beauty is found in Sodom. Did you know that secret? The awful thing is
that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are
fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man. But a man always
talks of his own ache. Listen, now to come to facts."

Chapter IV. The Confession Of A Passionate Heart--In Anecdote

"I was leading a wild life then. 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. Ladies used to be fond of me: not all of
them, but it happened, it happened. But I always liked side-paths, little
dark back-alleys behind the main road--there one finds adventures and
surprises, and precious metal in the dirt. I am speaking figuratively,
brother. In the town I was in, there were no such back-alleys in the
literal sense, but morally there were. If you were like me, you'd know
what that means. I loved vice, I loved the ignominy of vice. I loved
cruelty; am I not a bug, am I not a noxious insect? In fact a Karamazov!
Once we went, a whole lot of us, for a picnic, in seven sledges. It was
dark, it was winter, and I began squeezing a girl's hand, and forced her
to kiss me. She was the daughter of an official, a sweet, gentle,
submissive creature. She allowed me, she allowed me much in the dark. She
thought, poor thing, that I should come next day to make her an offer (I
was looked upon as a good match, too). But I didn't say a word to her for
five months. I used to see her in a corner at dances (we were always
having dances), her eyes watching me. I saw how they glowed with fire--a
fire of gentle indignation. 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