black
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So many memories and so little worth remembering, and in front of me – a long, long road without a goal.

Ivan Turgenev

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
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.
IVAN TURGENEV

Equality Miracle Person Prayer
I agree with no one’s opinion. I have some of my own.
IVAN TURGENEV

Myself Oneself Opinion
It’s all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.
IVAN TURGENEV

Art Romanticism Stupidity
Even nightingales can’t be fed on fairy tales.
IVAN TURGENEV

Bird Fairy Tale Feed
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
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
There are some moments in life, some feelings; one can only point to them and pass by.
IVAN TURGENEV

Feeling Life Moments Pass Point
Most people can’t understand how others can blow their noses differently than they do.
IVAN TURGENEV

Blow Different People Understand
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
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
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 TURGENEV

Body Condition Feeling Himself Love Permission Possession Sick Soul Willing
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
However much you knock at nature’s door, she will never answer you in comprehensible words.
IVAN TURGENEV

Answer Door Nature Word
I look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.
IVAN TURGENEV

Heaven Myself
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

Feeling Joy Love Soft Soul Sound Touch Yourself

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

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

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Popular Authors

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