Every man’s happiness is built on the unhappi-ness of another.
IVAN TURGENEVEvery man’s happiness is built on the unhappi-ness of another.
IVAN TURGENEVA person who gets angry at his own illness is sure to overcome it.
IVAN TURGENEVBazarov drew himself up haughtily. “I don’t adopt any one’s ideas; I have my own.
IVAN TURGENEVIllness isn’t the only thing that spoils the appetite.
IVAN TURGENEVI only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.
IVAN TURGENEVPeople 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 TURGENEVWhat 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 TURGENEVNothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late. It can give no pleasure, yet it deprives you of that most precious of rights – the right to swear and curse at your fate!
IVAN TURGENEVNature creates while destroying, and doesn’t care whether it creates or destroys as long as life isn’t extinguished, as long as death doesn’t lose its rights.
IVAN TURGENEVNothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late.
IVAN TURGENEVNo matter how often you knock at nature’s door, she won’t answer in words you can understand–for Nature is dumb. She’ll vibrate and moan like a violin, but you mustn’t expect a song.
IVAN TURGENEVTime, as is well known, sometimes flies like a bird and sometimes crawls like a worm, but human beings are generally particularly happy when they don’t notice whether it’s passing quickly or slowly.
IVAN TURGENEVI look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.
IVAN TURGENEVI was afraid of looking into my heart…afraid of thinking seriously about anything…I did not want to know whether I was loved, and I did not want to admit to myself that I was not loved.
IVAN TURGENEVMost people can’t understand how others can blow their noses differently than they do.
IVAN TURGENEVThe past was a dream wasn’t it? And who ever remembers dreams?
IVAN TURGENEV