Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.
Raskolnikov consoles himself with a grand, sorrowful creed. The statement romanticizes suffering, turning it into a badge of depth. That posture lets him confuse anguish born of guilt with the melancholy of “great souls.” The sweeping tone is seductive—self-pity wearing a laurel. Dostoevsky lets the line ring but later deflates it by showing that true greatness looks more like humility than grandeur. Many of us have tried to dignify our pain this way. The novel insists that meaning comes not from posing but from repentance and love.