With one hand I take thousands of rubles from the poor, and with the other I hand back a few kopecks.

At that instant he knew that all his doubts, even the impossibility of believing with his reason, of which he was aware in himself, did not in the least hinder his turning to God. All of that now floated out of his soul like dust. To whom was he to turn if not to Him in whose hands he felt himself, his soul, and his love?

And where love ends, hate begins

Art is not a pleasure, a solace, or an amusement; art is a great matter. Art is an organ of human life, transmitting man's reasonable perception into feeling.

There are no conditions to which a man cannot get accustomed, especially if he sees that everyone around him lives in the same way.

Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the company of intelligent women.

The more we live by our intellect, the less we understand the meaning of life.