black
grey
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That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

Ivan Turgenev

Death’s an old joke, but each individual encounters it anew.
IVAN TURGENEV

Death Deep Encounter Joke New
We’re young, we’re not monsters, no fools: we’ll conquer happiness for ourselves.
IVAN TURGENEV

Fools Happiness Monster Ourselves Young
Time, as is well known, sometimes flies like a bird and sometimes crawls like a worm, but human beings are generally particularly happy when they don’t notice whether it’s passing quickly or slowly.
IVAN TURGENEV

Human Known Notice Pass Quick Time
Everyone needs help from everyone else.
IVAN TURGENEV

Company Help Need Support
There is a sweetness in being the sole source, the autocratic and irresponsible cause of the greatest joy and profoundest pain to another.
IVAN TURGENEV

Autocracy Greatness Pain Reason Source Sweet
Every man’s happiness is built on the unhappi-ness of another.
IVAN TURGENEV

Built Happiness Man
So many memories and so little worth remembering, and in front of me – a long, long road without a goal.
IVAN TURGENEV

Goal Memories Myself Worth
I believe love produces a certain flowering of the whole personality which nothing else can achieve.
IVAN TURGENEV

Achievement Flower Love Myself Production
I don’t see why it’s impossible to express everything that’s on one’s mind.
IVAN TURGENEV

Expression Impossible Mindset Oneself
Go forward while you can, but if your strength fails you, sit down near the road and gaze without anger or envy at those who pass by. They don’t have far to go, either.
IVAN TURGENEV

Angry Failure Far Jealous Road Strength
Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. “I don’t adopt any one’s ideas; I have my own.
IVAN TURGENEV

Adopt Ideas Myself Opinion
The word tomorrow was invented for indecisive people and for children.
IVAN TURGENEV

Children Indecision People Word
I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.
IVAN TURGENEV

Grieve Life Meadow Myself Walk
I am a flirt: I have no heart: I have an actor’s nature.
IVAN TURGENEV

Actor Flirt Heart Nature
It’s all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.
IVAN TURGENEV

Art Romanticism Stupidity
Death is like a fisherman, who, having caught a fish in his net, leaves it in the water for a time; the fish continues to swim about, but all the while the net is round it, and the fisherman will snatch it out in his own good time.
IVAN TURGENEV

Death Goodness Leaving Time Water

That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

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That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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