Üzerlerine çiğ damlaları düşmüş gür çiçeklerin boy attığı parkı, bahçeyi, saçaklı kökleriyle başı göklere eren çam ağaçlarını, çavdar tarlasını, geliştirdiği bilimi, gençliğini, cesaretini, sevinçlerini, güzelliğine doyamadığı yaşamı yardıma çağıracaktı... Halının üzerinde, yüzünün yanında oluşan kan birikintisini görüyor, bağırmak istediği halde duyduğu dermansızlık yüzünden bir şey söyleyemiyor, ama anlatması zor, sınırsız bir mutluluk bütün bedenini dolduruyordu.
Anton ChekhovSe o senhor me permite arriscar uma comparação, diria que os livros são as pautas e a conversa é o canto. - A enfermaria Nº6 (novela)
Anton ChekhovIn all nature there seemed to be a feeling of hopelessness and pain. The earth, like a ruined woman sitting alone in a dark room and trying not to think of the past, was brooding over memories of spring and summer and apathetically waiting for the inevitable winter. Wherever one looked, on all sides, nature seemed like a dark, infinitely deep, cold pit from which neither Kirilov nor Abogin nor the red half-moon could escape....
Anton ChekhovTags: enemies short-story anton-chekhov
As a rule, however fine and deep a phrase may be, it only affects the indifferent, and cannot fully satisfy those who are happy or unhappy; that is why dumbness is most often the highest expression of happiness or unhappiness; lovers understand each other better when they are silent, and a fervent, passionate speech delivered by the grave only touches outsiders, while to the widow and children of the dead man it seems cold and trivial.
Anton ChekhovTags: enemies short-story anton-chekhov
If life has any meaning or purpose, you won't find it in happiness, but in something more rational, in something greater.
Anton ChekhovIt's obvious that the happy man feels contented only because the unhappy ones bear their burden without saying a word: if it weren't for their silence, happiness would be quiet impossible. It's a kind of mass hypnosis
Anton ChekhovBut i'm old now, no longer fit for the fray, i'm even incapable of hating. I only feel sick at heart, irritable and exasperated. At night my head seems to be on fire with so many thoughts crowding in and i can't get any sleep ... Oh, if only i were young again!
Anton ChekhovMy thoughts about human happiness, for some peculiar reason, had always been tinged with a certain sadness.
Anton ChekhovHundreds of versts of desolate, monotonous, sun-parched steppe cannot bring on the depression induced by one man who sits and talks, and gives no sign of ever going.
Anton ChekhovTags: russian-literature
Within a year Ivan Dmitritch was completely forgotten in the town, and his books, heaped up by his landlady in a sledge in the shed, were pulled to pieces by boys.
Anton ChekhovTags: ward-6-1892-anton-chekhov
« first previous
Page 28 of 30.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.