Alexander Pushkin Quotes

I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.

Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.

It's a lucky man, a very lucky man, who is committed to what he believes, who has stifled intellectual detachment and can relax in the luxury of his emotions - like a tipsy traveller resting for the night at wayside inn.

With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.

Thank you, darling, for learning to play chess. It is an absolute necessity for any well organized family. (in a letter to his wife)

It is better to have dreamed a thousand dreams that never were than never to have dreamed at all.

Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.

Inspiration is needed in geometry, just as much as in poetry.

Cabbage soup and barley. They're Russia's national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous.

A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.

But even friendship like our heroes' Exist no more; for we've outgrown All sentiments and deem men zeroes-- Except of course ourselves alone. We all take on Napoleon's features, And millions of our fellow creatures Are nothing more to us than tools... Since feelings are for freaks and fools. Eugene, of course, had keen perceptions And on the whole despised mankind, Yet wasn't, like so many, blind; And since each rule permits exceptions, He did respect a noble few, And, cold himself, gave warmth its due.

I am married and happy. My only wish is that nothing will change.

As long as there is one heart on Earth where I still live, my memory will not die.

To love all ages yield surrender; But to the young it's raptures bring A blessing bountiful and tender- As storms refresh the fields of spring.

I was not born to amuse the Tsars.

Play interests me very much," said Hermann: "but I am not in the position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the superfluous.

I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul The former love has never gone away, But let it not recall to you my dole; I wish not sadden you in any way. I loved you silently, without hope, fully, In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain; I loved you so tenderly and truly, As let you else be loved by any man.

Try to be forgotten. Go live in the country. Stay in mourning for two years, then remarry, but choose somebody decent.

My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you.

I’ve lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust; Now all that’s left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.

I've lived to bury my desires and see my dreams corrode with rust now all that's left are fruitless fires that burn my empty heart to dust. Struck by the clouds of cruel fate My crown of Summer bloom is sere Alone and sad, I watch and wait And wonder if the end is near. As conquered by the last cold air When Winter whistles in the wind Alone upon a branch that's bare A trembling leaf is left behind.

I do not like Moscow life. You live here not as you want to live, but as old women want you to.

Fearing no insult, asking for no crown, receive with indifference both flattery and slander, and do not argue with a fool.

Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.

I have outlasted all desire, My dreams and I have grown apart; My grief alone is left entire, The gleamings of an empty heart. The storms of ruthless dispensation Have struck my flowery garland numb, I live in lonely desolation And wonder when my end will come. Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted By tardy winter's whistling chill, A single leaf which has outlasted Its season will be trembling still.

I loved you; even now I may confess, Some embers of my love their fire retain; But do not let it cause you more distress, I do not want to sadden you again. Hopeless and tongue tied, yet I loved you dearly With pangs the jealous and the timid know; So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely, I pray God grant another love you so.

Don't be sad, don't be angry, if life deceives you! Submit to your grief - your time for joy will come, believe me.

Thus people--so it seems to me-- Become good friends from sheer ennui.

Sad that our finest aspiration, Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.

My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?

Write for pleasure and publish for money.

If you but knew the flames that burn in me which I attempt to beat down with my reason.