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All human beings hang by a thread, an abyss may open under their feet at any moment, and yet they have to go and invent all sorts of difficulties for themselves and spoil their lives.

Ivan Turgenev

There is a sweetness in being the sole source, the autocratic and irresponsible cause of the greatest joy and profoundest pain to another.
IVAN TURGENEV

Autocracy Greatness Pain Reason Source Sweet
The past was a dream wasn’t it? And who ever remembers dreams?
IVAN TURGENEV

Dreams Past Remember
I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.
IVAN TURGENEV

Feeling Live Myself Time
Nature 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 TURGENEV

Creation Destroy Nature Right
I never started from ideas but always from character.
IVAN TURGENEV

Character Ideas Myself Start
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 look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.
IVAN TURGENEV

Heaven Myself
Don’t force me into saying what I don’t want to say, and what I won’t say.
IVAN TURGENEV

Force Myself Talk
It was only the vulgarly mediocre that repelled her.
IVAN TURGENEV

Average Herself Mediocre Vulgar
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
I am a flirt: I have no heart: I have an actor’s nature.
IVAN TURGENEV

Actor Flirt Heart Nature
What a magnificent body, how I should like to see it on the dissecting table.
IVAN TURGENEV

Body Myself Table
Significance is sweet.
IVAN TURGENEV

One Liner Sweet
Nature is not a temple, but a workshop, and man’s the workman in it.
IVAN TURGENEV

Man Nature Temple Workshop
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
We’re young, we’re not monsters, no fools: we’ll conquer happiness for ourselves.
IVAN TURGENEV

Fools Happiness Monster Ourselves Young

All human beings hang by a thread, an abyss may open under their feet at any moment, and yet they have to go and invent all sorts of difficulties for themselves and spoil their lives.

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All human beings hang by a thread, an abyss may open under their feet at any moment, and yet they have to go and invent all sorts of difficulties for themselves and spoil their lives.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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