Our evenings are farewells. Our parties are testaments. So that the secret stream of suffering. May warm the cold of life.
BORIS PASTERNAKIt is no longer possible for lyric poetry to express the immensity of our experience. Life has grown too cumbersome, too complicated. We have acquired values which are best expressed in prose.
More Boris Pasternak Quotes
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It snowed and snowed, the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on the table; A candle burned.
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As far as modern writing is concerned, it is rarely rewarding to translate it, although it might be easy. Translation is very much like copying paintings.
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To be a woman is a great adventure; To drive men mad is a heroic thing.
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Art 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.
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And remember: you must never, under any circumstances, despair. To hope and to act, these are our duties in misfortune.
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Only the solitary seek the truth, and they break with all those who don’t love it sufficiently.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
It is not the object described that matters, but the light that falls on it.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
Man is born to live, not to prepare for life.
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Oh, what a love it was, utterly free, unique, like nothing else on earth! Their thoughts were like other people’s songs.
BORIS PASTERNAK -
The whole wide world is a cathedral; I stand inside, the air is calm, And from afar at times there reaches My ear the echo of a psalm.
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Immensely grateful, touched, proud, astonished, abashed.
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As in an explosion, I would erupt with all the wonderful things I saw and understood in this world.
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.
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He realised, more vividly than ever before, that art had two constant, two unending preoccupations: it is always meditating upon death and it is always thereby creating life.
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But the division in him was a sorrow and a torment, and he became accustomed to it only as one gets used to an unhealed and frequently reopened wound.
BORIS PASTERNAK