It is better to have dreamed a thousand dreams that never were than never to have dreamed at all.
ALEXANDER PUSHKINThe less we show our love to a woman, Or please her less, and neglect our duty, The more we trap and ruin her surely, In the flattering toils of philandery.
More Alexander Pushkin Quotes
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Tis time, my friend, ’tis time! For rest the heart is aching; Days follow days in flight, and every day is taking, Fragments of being, while together you and I, Make plans to live. Look, all is dust, and we shall die.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
To love all ages yield surrender; But to the young it’s raptures bring A blessing bountiful and tender- As storms refresh the fields of spring.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Inspiration is needed in geometry, just as much as in poetry.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
I’ve lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust; Now all that’s left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Fearing no insult, asking for no crown, receive with indifference both flattery and slander, and do not argue with a fool.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
As long as there is one heart on Earth where I still live, my memory will not die.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Don’t be sad, don’t be angry, if life deceives you! Submit to your grief – your time for joy will come, believe me.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Love passed, the Muse appeared, the weather of mind got clarity new-found; now free, I once more weave together emotion, thought, and magic sound.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
A man who’s active and incisive can yet keep nail-care much in mind: why fight what’s known to be decisive? Custom is despot of mankind.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Sad that our finest aspiration, Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN