Ivan Ilych's life had been most simple and most ordinary and therefore most terrible.
"A real work of art destroys, in the consciousness of the receiver, the separation between himself and the artist."
There are many faiths, but the spirit is one.
He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.
...the more he did nothing, the less time he had to do anything.
A writer is dear and necessary for us only in the measure of which he reveals to us the inner workings of his very soul.