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Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

Ivan Turgenev

Whatever man prays for, he prays for a miracle. Every prayer reduces itself.
IVAN TURGENEV

Man Miracle Prayer Reduce
That’s what children are for—that their parents may not be bored.
IVAN TURGENEV

Bored Children Parents
I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.
IVAN TURGENEV

Grieve Life Meadow Myself Walk
I never started from ideas but always from character.
IVAN TURGENEV

Character Ideas Myself Start
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.
IVAN TURGENEV

Childhood Cultivation Life Ourselves Past Personality Task
The fact is that previously they were simply dunces and now they’ve suddenly become nihilists.
IVAN TURGENEV

Atheist Fact Simplicity
It’s all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.
IVAN TURGENEV

Art Romanticism Stupidity
In days of doubt, in days of dreary musings on my country’s fate, you alone are my comfort and support, oh great, powerful, righteous, and free Russian language!
IVAN TURGENEV

Country Day Doubt Fate Freedom Language Myself
Everyone needs help from everyone else.
IVAN TURGENEV

Company Help Need Support
A poet must be a psychologist, but a secret one: he should know and feel the roots of phenomena but present only the phenomena themselves in full bloom or as they fade away.
IVAN TURGENEV

Difficult Feeling Home Kind Religious Survive Training
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
Significance is sweet.
IVAN TURGENEV

One Liner Sweet
So many memories and so little worth remembering, and in front of me – a long, long road without a goal.
IVAN TURGENEV

Goal Memories Myself Worth
Ah, but in time the heat of noontide passes, and to it there succeed nightfall and dusk, with a return to the quiet fold where for the weary an the heavy-laden there waits sleep, sweet sleep.
IVAN TURGENEV

Heat heavy Pass Return Sleep Time Wait
Who among us has the strength to oppose petty egoism, those petty good feelings, pity and remorse?
IVAN TURGENEV

Ego Feeling Goodness Strength
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

Better Existence Poetry Talk Truth

Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

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Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

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Popular Authors

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