I have been writing in spurts, bit by bit. It is incredibly difficult. Everything is corroded, broken, dismantled; everything is covered with hardene….

To be a woman is a great adventure; To drive men mad is a heroic thing..

At the moment of childbirth, every woman has the same aura of isolation, as though she were abandoned, alone..

In every generation there has to be some fool who will speak the truth as he sees it..

All mothers are mothers of great people, and it is not their fault that life later disappoints them..

A literary creation can appeal to us in all sorts of ways-by its theme, subject, situations, characters. But above all it appeals to us by the presen….

Everything established, settled, everything to do with home and order and the common ground, has crumbled into dust and has been swept away in the ge….

I don't like people who have never fallen or stumbled. Their virtue is lifeless and it isn't of much value. Life hasn't revealed its beauty to them..

A corner draft fluttered the flame And the white fever of temptation Upswept its angel wings that cast A cruciform shadow..

He was a natural, and in the Russian way, tragically above these banalities..

Love is not weakness. It is strong. Only the sacrament of marriage can contain it..

Don't be upset. Don't listen to me. I only meant that I am jealous of a dark, unconscious element, something irrational, unfathomable. I am jealous o….

But what are pity, conscience, or fear To the brazen pair, compared With the living sorcery Of their hot embraces?.

Art is interested in life at the moment when the ray of power is passing through it..

Our evenings are farewells. Our parties are testaments. So that the secret stream of suffering. May warm the cold of life..

He is her glory. Any woman could say it. For every one of them, God is in her child. Mothers of great men must have been familiar with this feeling, ….

He comes as a guest to the feast of existence, and knows that what matters is not how much he inherits but how he behaves at the feast, and what peop….

Oh, what a love it was, utterly free, unique, like nothing else on earth! Their thoughts were like other people's songs..

It was not until after the coming of Christ that time and humans could breathe freely. It was not until after him that people began to live toward th….

But who are we, where do we come from When all those years Nothing but idle talk is left And we are nowhere in the world?" = MEETING =.

No single man makes history. History cannot be seen, just as one cannot see grass growing. Wars and revolutions, kings and Robespierres, are history'….