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

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

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

I was not born to amuse the Tsars.

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.

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

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.