Sublime

Tears and agonies would at least have been life.

The strength of the Russian land is in its birches.

Pour un véritable écrivain. Écrire c’est être libre. Il se força à rire. — Qui vous a mis ces sornettes en tête ? Vous êtes esclave de votre carrière, de vos idées, de vos succès. Vous êtes esclave de votre condition. Écrire, c’est être dépendant. De ceux qui vous lisent, ou ne vous lisent pas. La liberté, c’est de la foutue connerie ! Personne n’e

am glad my young hero did not turn out to be too rational at such a moment, since there will always be plenty of opportunity for an intelligent person to employ his intellect, but if love did not hold sway in his heart at such an exceptional moment, would it ever do so?

“To drown in depravity, to stifle your soul with corruption, is that it?”

Remember them thus in your prayers: save, Lord, those whom there is no one to pray for, save also those who do not want to pray to you.

Yet he loved people: it seems that he lived his whole life with an absolute faith in people, though no one ever thought of him as simple or naïve. There was something in him that said, and made you believe (and this was so throughout his life), that he did not wish to sit in judgement on others and would never take it upon himself to censure anyone