Love isn’t actually a feeling at all–it’s an illness, a certain condition of body and soul…. Usually it takes possession of someone without his permission, all of a sudden, against his will–just like cholera or a fever.
IVAN TURGENEVLove isn’t actually a feeling at all–it’s an illness, a certain condition of body and soul…. Usually it takes possession of someone without his permission, all of a sudden, against his will–just like cholera or a fever.
More Ivan Turgenev Quotes
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Whatever a person may pray for, that person prays for a miracle. Every prayer comes down to this – Almighty God, grant that two times two not equal four.
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Sternly, remorselessly, fate guides each of us; only at the beginning, when we’re absorbed in details, in all sorts of nonsense, in ourselves, are we unaware of its harsh hand.
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It’s all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.
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The fact is that previously they were simply dunces and now they’ve suddenly become nihilists.
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There is a sweetness in being the sole source, the autocratic and irresponsible cause of the greatest joy and profoundest pain to another.
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I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.
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We Russians have assigned ourselves no other task in life but the cultivation of our own personalities, and when we’re barely past childhood, we set to work to cultivate them, those unfortunate personalities.
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So long as one’s just dreaming about what to do, one can soar like an eagle and move mountains, it seems, but as soon as one starts doing it one gets worn out and tired.
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Go and try to disprove death. Death will disprove you, and that’s all!
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Death’s an old joke, but each individual encounters it anew.
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That’s what children are for—that their parents may not be bored.
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Belonging to oneself–the whole essence of life lies in that.
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Each individual is more or less dimly aware of his significance, is aware that he’s something innately superior, something eternal–and lives, is obligated to live, in the moment and for the moment.
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Even nightingales can’t be fed on fairy tales.
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Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late.
IVAN TURGENEV






