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

Alexander Pushkin

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Fuse Heart Store Strain

Bagwalas

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I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Language Myself Study Understand
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Compulsion Impulse Obsession
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

Active Care Fight Kind Man Mindset
I was not born to amuse the Tsars.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Amusing Born Myself
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
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dance Human Soul
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
Better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Better Illusion Stop Truth
My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Life Meet Pledge Yourself
My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dreams Myself Sweet Youth
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
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
Sad that our finest aspiration, Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Aspiration Dreams Fine Fresh Leaving Sad Success
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

Day Death Fragment Friendship Heart Time
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
Habit is Heaven’s own redress: it takes the place of happiness.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Habit Happiness Heaven Place

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