Yet his fame eclipses that of all other Russian authors with one exception.
His chart predicts him to die in his sixtieth year, and this indeed he did on February 9, 1881.
Born yesterday, November 11, 1821, in Moscow, Fyodor Dostoyevski was haunted all his life by an overwhelming burden of sin, its temporary relief, and its hyperbolic return in the catastrophic sequence of events that led to the second World War.
There was no remedy other than a centralized government within which the church was universally respected.
"Only God can save us now," he said when he saw rioters in the streets and foresaw the Russian Revolution and the so-called dictatorship of the proletariat, which amounted to ruthless totalitarianism comparable to that of the Nazis.
Born today, Keats had a soft spot for Halloween and tried his hand at writing spooky verses that would scare school chums sitting around the campfire during the season of burning leaves.
The fact that Keats's moon is in Gemini, that the nocturnal northeastern quadrant is predominant in his natal chart, and above all that Mercury is his ruling planet, supports the view of this poet as a divinely-ordained messenger of the gods trapped in the frail body of an undernourished London lad with his face pressed against the sweet shop window, as Yeats wrote.
There is sadness in his life, illness, a consumptive cough.
But he has a generous soul, he meets afflictions with renewed resolve, he is capable of great feats of self-discipline.
Dostoyevski's birth pattern -- a full house, with only one empty chamber -- is replicated exactly on the second day of August 1914.
Had this fact been understood correctly, World War I might have been averted.
The German minister smoked a Turkish cigarette in a jade holder. On November 11, 1918 – Dusty’s birthday – in graveyards in the Ukraine and Byelorussia, in Latvia and Estonia, school children in tatters stood shouting, "Hooray for Karamazov!