This is a passage from the book 'The Brothers Karamazov' by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. I had brought up the subject in the forum upon reading the passage. The answers I got from my question were intriguing, and I would like to continue the conversation.

"Tell me yourself, I challenge you - answer. Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine that you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature - that child beating its breast with its fist, for instance - in order to found that edifice on its unavenged tears. Would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me. Tell me the truth."

Imagine that all war, plague, disease and crime would be eradicated if this child were to be tortured and killed. Would you do the killing?

Time has passed, as it usually does. My attendance has fluctuated, and though I read more than I ought, I write less than I should.
My crumbling old castle has served me well. I haven't had one disturbance here in my abode. But that could very well be a bad thing. If I had let my solitude overcome my senses, I would not be here now. I would be a lone madman; one of those you see walking the streets and talking to themselves. Many a night I spent lying atop the roof of my abode, letting the cold of the bricks envelope me. I would stare into the heavens, wondering at the purpose to my existence. The prospect of an empty future horrified me. But never did I let this terror get the best of me.
I did think of my Ursula. I wondered if such thoughts plagued her as much as they plagued me. For her sake, I hoped not.
To save myself from insanity, however, I returned to my books, and to the Immortal Sojourns forum. The words of Ovid and Yeats, and of a new author, Paulo Coelho, helped me to escape into different worlds. When reading of the thoughts and misfortunes of others, I could forget my own. And the company found within the forum delights me beyond words. And it was there that I began a correspondence with Eleni.
In my last entry, I mentioned the thought of perhaps one day finding a new companion. Never did I think I might find one so soon.

Eleni.

Within her lies a viscious nature. A nature that she had when she was born to darkness. But the trials of her immortal life have taught her civility. But here I weave lies. I do not believe she could ever have been entirely viscious in nature. She has shown me glimpses of her mortal life. She was a woman who had values and morals. She would have been my equal. But the way in which she was born to darkness caused a visciousness in her. She needed it to survive. And now, centuries later, I have her in my grasp. She has given herself over to me, and I have, wholeheartedly, given myself to her in return. I have felt such ecstacy with Eleni. I do believe that I am in love.

Why do I have to do the things I do? Why did I shrink away? Did I fear confrontation, or did I secretly wish for this to happen? Perhaps it is for the best. Ursula cannot be my only saving grace, as much as I like to admit that she is. I still do not doubt that some higher good pertains to what I do, even if I do it unconsciously.
I do not blame Ursula, and I never will; but perhaps this incident will help me. Ursula had already seen much of the world before she met me. And when she met me, and made me, she was chained to my world. The world of which I was loathe to leave. It was a miracle that we lasted as long as we did, in solitude in fair Saint Madalana. Now that she has gone I am forced to bring myself out into the world, or else become a lone madman. Ursula’s persuasion to meet the rest of the coven of the articulate would have been the last redeeming act that she had done for me. She has left me, but she has not left me alone, and for that I owe her my greatest gratitude.
Curiosity will be the death of me, of that I am sure. Celeste’s urging’s were more than I could resist. The temptation was far too great, and I took it. I have tasted passion and desire. I have tasted tainted blood, and I know what it is to be tainted. We must all experience the good with the bad.
My actions were rash. I should have concealed the relationship between Celeste and me. If I had done so, she would not have sought Santiago’s council, and the two of them would not have come walking through Celeste’s door on that fateful evening. Ursula would not have turned her back on me. She claimed that it was not my actions that had hurt her, it was my dishonesty. We had promised to tell each other everything, even if it was painful to do. I did not keep my end of the promise. I had deliberately kept things from her, and so she would leave me. It was my own fault and I will admit it. But if I had have been honest with her, would the situation have ended any differently? Would she have stayed? For some reason I think she wanted to leave anyway. I just gave her an excuse. She is not dead. She’s alive and well, and I will see her again, of that I have no doubt. For the moment she is gone. Her light has vanished, and I now need to find my way in the dark.
Santiago’s wrath I have yet to face, though I’m not sure that his wrath will be great. I have a feeling it will fall mostly on Celeste’s shoulders. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe I should be wary, just for a while.
My feet have been tripped from beneath me. I’m flailing, but I will not fall. I have been through worse situations, and this will not be the end of me. My curiosity and will is far too great for such a downfall. The world is bright, despite the fact that it is shrouded in darkness. Perhaps I will find a new companion of whom I can spend my nights with. Only time will tell, and time I will allow. A companion won’t be found right away, and I’m not sure I need one right away. I need at least a little solitude. My thoughts need to be put in order, and when they are gathered and coherently understood, I will venture forth into the unknown.
Saint Madalana at this time of year is perfect for solitude. My crumbling castle on the hill serves perfectly as an asylum for the heartbroken.

To be content. It is what I continue to say; that I am content. I was blissfully at peace with myself and with the world, despite the torment that constantly tore at my own soul.
I am once more reminded of my ceaseless love for Fra Filippo Lippi, the tormented artist. I had loved him, and still love him for the emotion that was always apparent in his work. It was his own emotion that he converted to the faces on the canvas. Little did I know when I first experienced Lippi that I would become just as tormented as he, if not more.
Over the decades Ursula has done much to alleviate this torment from my heart. Torn between virtue and my needs as this monster, Ursula would settle my qualms. There was nothing that could be done. Nothing at all, save death, and death I was not ready for.
My mind is a pond, still and quiet under unquestioning stars. But every now and again some unknown factor would stir the waters, and I’d be forced to try to calm them again. Our visit to the coven of the articulate seems to have turned that steady pond into a creek of flowing water. That creek is slowly turning into a flood.
In keeping to ourselves for so long, what was it that Ursula and I had missed out on? Who were the people that we could have met? Was this what kept me away? Fear for my own sanity?
I knew the stories of the articulate. I read them, such as everyone else had. But upon meeting the faces and personalities that were portrayed in the novels it became evident that they weren’t as simple as they had at first seemed. They each had their own flame, and, like an unwary moth, I am drawn to them. I am ever curious. I seek company other than that of my ever faithful Ursula.
Guilt plagues me because of it. I am enticed and seduced by each new immortal soul I encounter. The questions are endless. Why should I be guilty? It is only natural. But guilt springs from what one feels is wrong. This is wrong, and yet I continue to stumble forth into the unknown. Curse this curiosity that won’t let me be.

The centuries had grown dull. There was only one bright light left, and it was the soul who stood beside me; my beloved. If I were to spend eternity in hell, I would do so for her, and so I would suffer the long hours for her. In the beginning it was entertaining; to prowl the darkness and to play with our food. That was until a fiery angel took the last ounce of sanity from me.
I may have proclaimed that I would not write of neither doubt nor of darkness, but in the end doubt and darkness are all that remain. Even surrounded by celestial gold I could keep the darkness at bay. It became harder and harder to enter the world of mortals. I was deathly afraid of falling in love with their brightness; with the severity of their souls. Always they were more appealing, yet never so far out of reach.
Of course I stayed with Ursula, the main reason being that she was the only love I had ever known. But even if I had wanted to I could not have left her. Without her my own soul would have dimmed, and soon would have died.
Another generation passed away, and I became more and more like the man who I had once admired. I became tormented; torn between light and darkness; between sanity and insanity. One century passed into the next. Technology was born, and it’s growth was phenomenal.
It wasn’t long before news of the ‘articulate’ had reached our ears. Years had passed after I had released my story into the world, yet the whispers and buzz concerning the vampires had never been so strong. What were the reasons? Perhaps it was time for us to venture from our fox hole.
With little hassle we travelled across the seas, and landed on new soil. America – life was of a faster pace here. It was all we could do to keep up.
It was not long before news of our arrival had reached the ears of the ‘articulate’, and we were approaches by one of its members. Of course we had heard of her. Who had not?
Gabrielle explained to us the endeavour that had been undertaken, and she invited us warmly to join. How could we have refused? At first I was wary. Such a step was outside of my comfort zone, but Ursula urged me on. Couldn’t it be a way to interact with mortals without hindrance? Without seeing them surrounded in gold – I could speak with them only through the written word. I couldn’t deny the ingenuity of it.

And here you find us, in the midst of electric vibes and rigid words. Technology, it seemed, was not such a bad thing.