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Behind me there are already so many memories Lots of memories, but no point in remembering them, and ahead of me a long, long road with nothing to aim for I just don’t want to go along it.

Ivan Turgenev

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
I don’t see why it’s impossible to express everything that’s on one’s mind.
IVAN TURGENEV

Expression Impossible Mindset Oneself
The past was a dream wasn’t it? And who ever remembers dreams?
IVAN TURGENEV

Dreams Past Remember
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
It was only the vulgarly mediocre that repelled her.
IVAN TURGENEV

Average Herself Mediocre Vulgar
Time, 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 TURGENEV

Human Known Notice Pass Quick Time
Illness isn’t the only thing that spoils the appetite.
IVAN TURGENEV

Appetite Sick Spoil
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.
IVAN TURGENEV

Beginning Detail Fate Guide Hands Harsh Ourselves
The temerity to believe in nothing.
IVAN TURGENEV

Believe One Liner
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.
IVAN TURGENEV

Dreams Oneself Soar Start Tired
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
I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.
IVAN TURGENEV

Grieve Life Meadow Myself Walk
Belonging to oneself–the whole essence of life lies in that.
IVAN TURGENEV

Essence Life Lying Oneself
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 am a flirt: I have no heart: I have an actor’s nature.
IVAN TURGENEV

Actor Flirt Heart Nature
I look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.
IVAN TURGENEV

Heaven Myself

Behind me there are already so many memories Lots of memories, but no point in remembering them, and ahead of me a long, long road with nothing to aim for I just don’t want to go along it.

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Behind me there are already so many memories Lots of memories, but no point in remembering them, and ahead of me a long, long road with nothing to aim for I just don’t want to go along it.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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