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Failure to love is almost like murder.

Boris Pasternak

No single man makes history. History cannot be seen just as one cannot see grass growing.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Growth History Man Sight
You fall into my arms. You are the good gift of destruction’s path, When life sickens more than disease And boldness is the root of beauty – Which draws us together.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Arms Beautiful Bold Draw Fall Gift Goodness Togetherness Yourself
Literature is the art of discovering something extraordinary about ordinary people, and saying with ordinary words something extraordinary.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Art Discover Extraordinary Literature People Word
Mother Russia is on the move, she can’t stand still, she’s restless and can’t find rest, she’s talking and she can’t stop.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Finding Herself Move Stand Stop
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

Easy Great Heart Knock Life Missing Moments Yourself
Man is born to live, not to prepare for life.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Born Life Live Man Preparation
During the last years of Mayakovski’s life, when all poetry had ceased to exist . . . literature had stopped.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Existence Life Literature Poetry Stop
I used to be very revolutionary, but now I think that nothing can be gained by brute force. People must be drawn to good by goodness.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Character Force Goodness Myself Revolution Thinking
You are eternity’s hostage A captive of mine.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Forever Myself Prison Yourself
An unshared happiness is not happiness.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Happiness Share
A corner draft fluttered the flame And the white fever of temptation Upswept its angel wings that cast A cruciform shadow.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Angel Flame Shadow Temptation
She was here on earth to make sense of its wild enchantments.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Earth Enchant Herself Magic Wild
We must discover security within ourselves.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Discover Ourselves Security
Our evenings are farewells. Our parties are testaments. So that the secret stream of suffering. May warm the cold of life.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Cold Life Ourselves Secret Stream Suffering Warm
The writer is the Faust of modern society, the only surviving individualist in a mass age. To his orthodox contemporaries he seems a semi-madman.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Himself Modern Society Survival Writing
I am caught like a beast at bay. Somewhere are people, freedom, light, But all I hear is the baying of the pack, There is no way out for me.
BORIS PASTERNAK

Freedom Light Myself People

Failure to love is almost like murder.

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Failure to love is almost like murder.

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