How Dostoevsky Ruined My Life

By Me, who thought quoting a 19th-century Russian existentialist would make me look smart.

There I was, an ordinary person trying to have a regular conversation, and suddenly—boom—I decided to quote Dostoevsky. You read that right. I quoted Fyodor Dostoevsky, the guy who wrote books like Crime and Punishment, which is essentially 800 pages of, "Oh my god, I killed someone, now I feel bad, should I confess? I don’t know! Let’s spend another 200 pages figuring it out."

But I didn’t pick a regular quote, something vaguely inspirational that might look good on a poster in a dentist's office. No. I had to go full Dostoevsky and drop something like: "Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately in love with suffering."

Invoking Dostoevsky is not something one does casually. It's not like quoting Taylor Swift lyrics, where everyone’s encouraged to “shake it off!" Referencing any Russian writer should be done with the same degree of gravity that one acknowledges, “Winter is Coming.”

I don’t know what I was thinking. It started innocently enough. As one does, we were talking about life, and suddenly, I thought, “I will blow their minds.” And you know what? I did blow their minds. Just not in the way I hoped.

You’d think quoting Dostoevsky would give this impression: Wow, you’re deep; you must read heavy books and ponder the meaning of life. But it makes them wonder if you're the type of person who stares out the window in the rain for fun. And let me assure you, there’s nothing romantic about that.

When I first used a Dostoevsky quote in conversation, I thought people would be, "Whoa, this person is smart and philosophical." No. No. Instead, I got a bunch of blank stares, followed by, "Uh, are you okay? Do you… need to talk to someone?"

It was as if I had wandered into a party and set off a smoke grenade, and everyone was left coughing and asking each other, "Did he just say that?" I was trying to be profound, but instead, I came off as someone who overthinks their grocery list. (I do put far too much time into considering what I buy at Food Lion.)

But that wasn’t the worst part. The real misery came later when I realized I couldn’t stop. Once you quote Dostoevsky, it becomes a thing. People expect it from you all the time. They start looking at you like you’re some brooding philosopher when you only want to casually comment about how expensive avocados have gotten.

You know that feeling when you go too far, but it’s too late to turn back? For example, when you accidentally call your teacher “Mom,” do you double down and make it weirder instead of laughing it off? That’s what quoting Dostoevsky is like. You’re stuck in it, and now everyone thinks you're the kind of person who reads by candlelight and contemplates the abyss on a Tuesday afternoon.

You’d think quoting Dostoevsky was the worst part, right? But no, my life got worse because people started quoting Dostoevsky back at me. Like some weird, intellectual game of "Tag, you're it!"

Suddenly, my friends say, "That reminds me of something Dostoevsky said about suffering..." Oh, great, now everyone is deep. And what’s worse? I have no idea what they’re talking about. I read Crime and Punishment once! It’s not like I have a PhD in Russian literature. I’m over here trying to quote something cool, and now I’m trapped in this cycle of misery.

And it gets to the point where you’re in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation, and someone says, "But isn’t that just like what Dostoevsky said about the duality of man?" And now I’m like, "Oh, sure, yeah, totally." Meanwhile, inside my head, I scream, "Who even ARE you?!"

There’s this weird pressure that comes with it. Once you’ve gone down the path of existentialist quotes, you can’t return to quoting things like The Office. People expect you to have a mental library of dark and heavy thoughts when all I want to talk about are the fajitas you had at lunch.

But no. Now I’m the Dostoevsky guy. And worse, it makes people think I have the answers to life’s big questions, like I’m some walking therapist. Spoiler: I do not have the answers. I’m still trying to figure out how to fold a fitted sheet.

There you have it. Quoting Dostoevsky made my life miserable. I thought I’d be admired for my depth and intellect, but I became that guy instead. The one people awkwardly avoid at parties because they think I will launch into a 10-minute monologue about the meaning of existence.

If you take one thing away from this, it’s this: Don’t quote Dostoevsky. It’s a trap. Stick to quoting things like Friends. At least that way, people will think you’re fun and relatable instead of wondering if you’re about to move to a cabin in Montana.

And if you ever find yourself in a situation where you’re tempted to say, "You know, Dostoevsky once said…" stop yourself. Just stop. Go outside, take a walk, pet a dog—do anything—but do not, I repeat, do not quote Dostoevsky.

Because once you do, there's no going back.