Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one’s own way is better than to go right in someone else’s.
Razumihin’s warmth throws a human light against the novel’s gloom. His defense of “own nonsense” celebrates selfhood over borrowed opinions. The repetition and kiss-you hyperbole turn a theory into affection, anchoring an ethic of honest error. This counters Raskolnikov’s cold “extraordinary man” logic with a more generous courage. It’s a credo for growing up: risk being wrong to become a person, not a copy. The line resonates beyond the story as a compact of friendship and freedom. It models a braver humility than Raskolnikov can manage—yet.