He was a natural, and in the Russian way, tragically above these banalities.

It is no longer possible for lyric poetry to express the immensity of our experience. Life has grown too cumbersome, too complicated. We have acquired values which are best expressed in prose.

What for centuries raised man above the beast is not the cudgel but the irresistible power of unarmed truth.

I have the impression that if he didn't complicate his life so needlessly, he would die of boredom.

I am caught like a beast at bay. Somewhere are people, freedom, light, But all I hear is the baying of the pack, There is no way out for me.

... the unarmed power of naked truth.

No deep and strong feeling, such as we may come across here and there in the world, is unmixed with compassion. The more we love, the more the object of our love seems to us to be a victim.