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

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

I was not born to amuse the Tsars.

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

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

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