He was the soul of politeness to everyone -- to some with a hint of aversion, to others with a hint of respect.

I was as happy as a fish in water, and I could have stayed in that room for ever, have never left that place.

There are some moments in life, some feelings; one can only point to them and pass by.

So long as one's just dreaming about what to do, one can soar like an eagle and move mountains, it seems, but as soon as one starts doing it one gets worn out and tired.

What did I hope for, what did I expect, what rich future did I foresee, when the phantom of my first love, rising up for an instant, barely called forth one sigh, one mournful sentiment?

It's all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.

In the end, nature is inexorable: it has no reason to hurry and, sooner or later, it takes what belongs to it. Unconsciously and inflexibly obedient to its own laws, it doesn't know art, just as it doesn't know freedom, just as it doesn't know goodness.