There was a tremendous power in the burning look of her eyes; she came "conquering and to conquer." She seemed proud and occasionally even arrogant; I don't know if she ever succeeded in being kind, but I know she badly wanted to and that she went thru agonies to force herself to be a little kind. There were of course, many fine impulses and a most commendable initiative in her nature; but everything in her seemed to be perpetually seeking it's equilibrium and not finding it; everything was in chaos, in state of agitation and restlessness. Perhaps the demands she made upon herself were too severe and she was unable to find in herself the necessary strength to satisfy them.
Dostoevsky, The Devils
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