"we always imagine eternity as a conception impossible to grasp, something enormous, immense! why must it inevitably be enormous? just think of a single little room- a bathhouse in one of our backwater villages, something like that, sooty, spiders in all the corners- and that's all there is to eternity. you know, sometimes that's the way it strikes me."
"you mean, you mean to tell me," said Raskolnikov with a queasy feeling, "you mean you can't imagine anything more comforting than that, more just?"
Svidrigailov replied, smiling vaguely: "more just? how do we know? maybe it is just. I'll tell you something. if I had my way, that's exactly the way I would have made it!"
"four points realizing the absoluteness in their aloneness."
and these guys