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

In days of doubt, in days of dreary musings on my country's fate, you alone are my comfort and support, oh great, powerful, righteous, and free Russian language!

What's terrible is that there's nothing terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, uninteresting, and degradingly trite.

I don't see why it's impossible to express everything that's on one's mind.

A withered maple leaf has left its branch and is falling to the ground; its movements resemble those of a butterfly in flight. Isn't it strange? The saddest and deadest of things is yet so like the gayest and most vital of creatures?

Everyone needs help from everyone else.

Go forward while you can, but if your strength fails you, sit down near the road and gaze without anger or envy at those who pass by. They don't have far to go, either.