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That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

Ivan Turgenev

I was as happy as a fish in water, and I could have stayed in that room for ever, have never left that place.
IVAN TURGENEV

Happiness Myself Place Room Stay Water
Go and try to disprove death. Death will disprove you, and that’s all!
IVAN TURGENEV

Death Yourself
In my case there was no first love. I began with the second.
IVAN TURGENEV

Beginning Love Myself
Even nightingales can’t be fed on fairy tales.
IVAN TURGENEV

Bird Fairy Tale Feed
I never started from ideas but always from character.
IVAN TURGENEV

Character Ideas Myself Start
However much you knock at nature’s door, she will never answer you in comprehensible words.
IVAN TURGENEV

Answer Door Nature Word
What did I hope for, what did I expect, what rich future did I foresee, when the phantom of my first love, rising up for an instant, barely called forth one sigh, one mournful sentiment?
IVAN TURGENEV

Expectation Future Hope Instant Mourn Oneself Rise
I agree with no one’s opinion. I have some of my own.
IVAN TURGENEV

Myself Oneself Opinion
Youth eats all the sugared fancy cakes and regards them as its daily bread. But there’ll come a time when you’ll start asking just for a crust.
IVAN TURGENEV

Eat Regard Time Yourself Youth
He was the soul of politeness to everyone — to some with a hint of aversion, to others with a hint of respect.
IVAN TURGENEV

Himself Polite Respect Soul
If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin.
IVAN TURGENEV

Beginning Moments Patience Wait
I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.
IVAN TURGENEV

Feeling Live Myself Time
People without firmness of character love to make up a fate for themselves; that relieves them of the necessity of having their own will and of taking responsibility for themselves.
IVAN TURGENEV

Character Fate Necessary People Responsibility Willing
A son is like a lopped off branch. As a falcon he comes when he wills and goes where he lists.
IVAN TURGENEV

Branch Himself Son Willing
It was only the vulgarly mediocre that repelled her.
IVAN TURGENEV

Average Herself Mediocre Vulgar
We sit in the mud and reach for the stars.
IVAN TURGENEV

Reach Stars

That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

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That is what poetry can do. It speaks to us of what does not exist, which is not only better than what exists, but even more like the truth.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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