At the moment of childbirth, every woman has the same aura of isolation, as though she were abandoned, alone.
BORIS PASTERNAKAt the moment of childbirth, every woman has the same aura of isolation, as though she were abandoned, alone.
BORIS PASTERNAKThe most extraordinary discoveries are made when the artist is overwhelmed by what he has to say.
BORIS PASTERNAKAs in an explosion, I would erupt with all the wonderful things I saw and understood in this world.
BORIS PASTERNAKHow wonderful to be alive, he thought. But why does it always hurt?
BORIS PASTERNAKAnd why is it, thought Lara, that my fate is to see everything and take it all so much to heart?
BORIS PASTERNAKEven so, one step from my grave, I believe that cruelty, spite, The powers of darkness will in time Be crushed by the spirit of light.
BORIS PASTERNAKWe’re all time’s captives, hostages to eternity.
BORIS PASTERNAKThe writer is the Faust of modern society, the only surviving individualist in a mass age. To his orthodox contemporaries he seems a semi-madman.
BORIS PASTERNAKI hate everything you say, but not enough to kill you for it.
BORIS PASTERNAKAnd remember: you must never, under any circumstances, despair. To hope and to act, these are our duties in misfortune.
BORIS PASTERNAKIt is not the object described that matters, but the light that falls on it.
BORIS PASTERNAKNo single man makes history. History cannot be seen just as one cannot see grass growing.
BORIS PASTERNAKPoetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation’s tears in shoulder blades.
BORIS PASTERNAKOh, what a love it was, utterly free, unique, like nothing else on earth! Their thoughts were like other people’s songs.
BORIS PASTERNAKIt is no longer possible for lyric poetry to express the immensity of our experience. Life has grown too cumbersome, too complicated. We have acquired values which are best expressed in prose.
BORIS PASTERNAKThe whole wide world is a cathedral; I stand inside, the air is calm, And from afar at times there reaches My ear the echo of a psalm.
BORIS PASTERNAK