He learnt fairly quickly, though he was often lazy; he never cried, but at times he was overtaken by a fit of savage obstinacy; then no one could soften him.

Fedya loved no one among those around him....

Woe to the heart that has not loved in youth! Thus Ivan Petrovitch found him, and without loss of time he set to work to apply his system to him.
"I want above all to make a man, un homme, of him," he said to Glafira Petrovna, "and not only a man, but a Spartan." Ivan Petrovitch began carrying out his intentions by putting his son in a Scotch kilt; the twelve-year-old boy had to go about with bare knees and a plume stuck in his Scotch cap.

The Swedish lady was replaced by a young Swiss tutor, who was versed in gymnastics to perfection.

Music, as a pursuit unworthy of a man, was discarded.