It is better to have dreamed a thousand dreams that never were than never to have dreamed at all.
ALEXANDER PUSHKINFearing no insult, asking for no crown, receive with indifference both flattery and slander, and do not argue with a fool.
More Alexander Pushkin Quotes
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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 -
Moscow, how many strains are fusing in that one sound, for Russian hearts! What store of riches it imparts!
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Then came a moment of renaissance, I looked up – you again are there, A fleeting vision, the quintessence Of all that`s beautiful and rare.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
If you but knew the flames that burn in me which I attempt to beat down with my reason.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Play interests me very much,” said Hermann: “but I am not in the position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the superfluous.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
As long as there is one heart on Earth where I still live, my memory will not die.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
The 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.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
Habit is Heaven’s own redress: it takes the place of happiness.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN -
I am married and happy. My only wish is that nothing will change.
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 -
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






