Dostoevsky On Suffering Novels & Stories

When that rage finally simmered down, I spoke. "What do you know about suffering?" There was no reply from her. But I was definitely getting an answer. "I said what do YOU know about suffering?!" Eva's face contorted into a twisted smile. "Alright. Who suffered more? The Olympic games. Do you want us to go on about who had it more tough? I probably wouldn't have killed Father if I knew we were blood. I probably wouldn't have wasted the pack's blood if I knew I was kin. Your grandmother is the reason I had to suffer. She is the reason you also had to suffer."

The way he had kissed me today and the way I reacted to him made my body heat up, and I was thankful for him having work; otherwise, I wasn’t sure whether or not the two of us would be out of bed at this point. Scrubbing my body clean, I reminded myself of the pain that he caused me. If I was living any of this, it was because of him, and I couldn’t just let that go because of a few gentle words. The man had to suffer just like I have; but, I wouldn’t be in charge of the darkness that would cascade them. Instead, I would be watching, enjoying every second of their suffering… One way or the other, you are going to make you pay, Alpha Alexei…

My cries echo in the immense suite, mingling with the dull grunts of the blows and Liam's raspy breathing. Liam doesn't scream. He takes it in silence, eyes half-closed, his gaze sometimes lost, sometimes finding mine in a flash of consciousness. And in that gaze, through the pain, I see something that finishes tearing me apart: not reproach. A strange pity. As if he could see that my suffering, at that moment, was worse than his own. — You see? murmurs Volkov, his mouth against my temple. You see what your little game caused? You thought you were strong. You were only a useful idiot.

he said and I sensed stoicism as a tear ran down his plain face. "I stayed awake this time and felt all the pain. It felt so bad, it hurt too much that I almost gave up. I felt dirty and my mom was forced to watch as he did everything he did to me because if she didn't watch, she would be the one in my place and that's the last thing I wanted. He said all kinds of disgusting things, his sadistic nature only made it worse. I felt dead, I felt like I was in hell. I was suffering for sins I haven't committed but I sacrificed myself for the woman I love the most. I sacrifice myself for those small smiles I see on her face occasionally. I sacrifice because she did the same for me.

He simply concluded that their their happiness was misplaced. To him, they should be cowering in fear, begging for mercy, and pleading for him to end their torment. Instead, their laughter grated on his senses, a contrast to the suffering he believed they deserved. His mind, clouded by darkness, found pleasure in the thought of inflicting pain rather than witnessing happiness.