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Better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths.

Alexander Pushkin

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Better Illusion Stop Truth

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Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Love Man Raise
If you but knew the flames that burn in me which I attempt to beat down with my reason.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Attempt Burn Flame Reason
My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dreams Myself Sweet Youth
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.
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Active Care Fight Kind Man Mindset
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dance Human Soul
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

Burn Bury Desire Dreams Empty Heart Live
A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dear Deception Elevate Host Low Truth
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

Appearance Emotion Finding Love Magic Sound Togetherness Weave
I do not like Moscow life. You live here not as you want to live, but as old women want you to.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Life Live Old Woman Yourself
Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Action Invention Justify Moral Occasion Ourselves Surprise
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Compulsion Impulse Obsession
Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Brilliant Capacity Sanity
Moscow, how many strains are fusing in that one sound, for Russian hearts! What store of riches it imparts!
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Fuse Heart Store Strain
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

Beautiful Moments Myself Rare Vision
I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Language Myself Study Understand
Cabbage soup and barley. They’re Russia’s national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Barley Boredom Excellence Food National Shade Soup

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