black
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Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

Anton Chekhov

I kept thinking how marvellous it would be if I could somehow tear my heart, which felt so heavy, out of my chest.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Feeling Heart Heart Broken Marvelous Myself Thinking
My love is like a stone tied round my neck; it’s dragging me down to the bottom; but I love my stone. I can’t live without it.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Live Love Myself Neck Stone
Exquisite nature, daydreams, and music say one thing, real life another.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Life Music Nature Oneself Reality
It’s not a matter of old or new forms; a person writes without thinking about any forms, he writes because it flows freely from his soul.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Flow Freedom Himself Old Person Soul Writing
When asked, “Why do you always wear black?”, he said, “I am mourning for my life.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Black Color Deep Life Mourning Myself
Not one of our mortal gauges is suitable for evaluating non-existence, for making judgments about that which is not a person.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Existence Judgement Mortal Ourselves Person Suitable
If you ever have need of my life, come and take it.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Life Love Myself Need Yourself
The unhappy are egotistical, base, unjust, cruel, and even less capable of understanding one another than are idiots. Unhappiness does not unite people, but separates them.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Cruelty Ego Happiness People Seperate Understand Unity White
The more cultured a man, the less fortunate he is.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Culture Fortunate Himself Man
It is easy to be a philosopher in academia, but it is very difficult to be a philosopher in life.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Difficult Easy Life Philosopher
Any idiot can face a crisis – it’s day to day living that wears you out.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Crisis Day Face Idiot Live
When all is said and done, no literature can outdo the cynicism of real life; you won’t intoxicate with one glass someone who has already drunk up a whole barrel.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Alcohol Drink Life Literature Reality Yourself
The aim of fiction is absolute and honest truth.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Absolute Fiction Honesty Truth
The happy man only feels at ease because the unhappy bear their burden in silence. Without this silence, happiness would be impossible.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Easy Feeling Happiness Impossible Man Silence
Knowledge is of no value unless you put it into practice.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Knowledge Practice Value
The snow has not yet left the earth but spring is already asking to enter your heart.
ANTON CHEKHOV

Earth Heart Snow Spring Yourself

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

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Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

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