A corner draft fluttered the flame And the white fever of temptation Upswept its angel wings that cast A cruciform shadow.
BORIS PASTERNAKArt always serves beauty, and beauty is the joy of possessing form, and form is the key to organic life since no living thing can exist without it.
More Boris Pasternak Quotes
-
-
Yet the order of the acts is planned And the end of the way inescapable. I am alone; all drowns in the Pharisees’ hypocrisy.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
I come here to speak poetry. It will always be in the grass. It will also be necessary to bend down to hear it. It will always be too simple to be discussed in assemblies.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
As in an explosion, I would erupt with all the wonderful things I saw and understood in this world.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
No deep and strong feeling, such as we may come across here and there in the world, is unmixed with compassion. The more we love, the more the object of our love seems to us to be a victim.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
Love is not weakness. It is strong. Only the sacrament of marriage can contain it.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
In life it is more necessary to lose than to gain. A seed will only germinate if it dies.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
Failure to love is almost like murder.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
And why is it, thought Lara, that my fate is to see everything and take it all so much to heart?
BORIS PASTERNAK -
He was a natural, and in the Russian way, tragically above these banalities.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
All mothers are mothers of great people, and it is not their fault that life later disappoints them.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
What is laid down, ordered, factual is never enough to embrace the whole truth: life always spills over the rim of every cup.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
You and I, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
Even 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 PASTERNAK -
Poetry 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 PASTERNAK