I will begin with what in my opinion is your lack of restraint. You are like a spectator in a theatre who expresses his enthusiasm so unrestrainedly that he prevents himself and others from hearing. That lack of restraint is particularly noticeable in the descriptions of nature with which you interrupt dialogues; when one reads them, these descriptions, one wishes they were more compact, shorter, say two or three lines.

Life does not agree with philosophy: There is no happiness that is not idleness, and only what is useless is pleasurable.

I've been reading reviews of my stories for twenty-five years, and can't remember a single useful point in any of them, or the slightest good advice. The only reviewer who ever made an impression on me was Skabichevsky, who prophesied that I would die drunk in the bottom of a ditch.

I don’t understand anything about the ballet; all I know is that during the intervals the ballerinas stink like horses.

The University brings out all abilities, including incapability.

You ask me what life is. That's like asking what a carrot is. A carrot is a carrot, and there's nothing more to know.

Everyone judges plays as if they were very easy to write. They don't know that it is hard to write a good play, and twice as hardand tortuous to write a bad one.