Youth eats all the sugared fancy cakes and regards them as its daily bread. But there'll come a time when you'll start asking just for a crust.
Ivan TurgenevTag: asya
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 TurgenevI'm incapable of describing the feeling with which I left. I wouldn't want it ever to be repeated, but I would have considered myself unfortunate if I'd never experienced it.
Ivan TurgenevLooking about me, listening and recalling what the day had been like, I suddenly felt a secret unease in my heart and raised my eyes to the sky, but even in the sky there seemed to be no tranquillity. Dotted with stars, it constantly quivered and danced and shivered.
Ivan TurgenevEverything on earth -- both the good things and the bad things -- is not given to a man according to his just deserts, but as a result of certain as yet unknown, yet logical, laws which I won't even undertake to suggest to you, although it sometimes seems to me that I feel them as through a glass darkly.
Ivan Turgenev--while the sun and wind played gently in its spreading branches; the bells of the Donskoy monastery would sometimes float across--tranquil and sad--and I would sit and gaze and listen, and would be filled with a nameless sensation which had everything in it; sorrow and joy, a premonition of the future, and desire, and fear of life.
Ivan TurgenevA 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 TurgenevAceeași viață aici curgea neauzită, ca și apa printre ierburile mlaștinii. Și pînă seara tîrziu Lavrețki nu se putu smulge din contemplarea acestei vieți trecătoare, ca apa care curge.Durerile trecutului se topeau în sufletu-i ca zăpezile primăvara și - lucru ciudat ! - niciodată nu simți o iubire așa adîncă și de puternică pentru pămîntul patriei sale.
Ivan TurgenevTag: viata lavretki pamant patrie un-cuib-de-nobili
What's this?' she asked. 'Is it a sphinx?'
Yes,' he answered, 'and the sphinx is you.
I was afraid of looking into my heart...afraid of thinking seriously about anything...I did not want to know whether I was loved, and I did not want to admit to myself that I was not loved...
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