We ought to thank God for that. Yes, the man who tills the land is more worthy of respect than any.

There are certain words which are nearer and dearer to a man than any others.

Countless as the sands of sea are human passions, and not all of them are alike, and all of them, base and noble alike, are at first obedient to man and only later on become his terrible masters.

Keep not money, but keep good people's company.

In the course of reading he [Alexander Pushkin] became more and more melancholy and finally became completely gloomy. When the reading was over he uttered in a voice full of sorrow: "Goodness, how sad is our Russia!"

There exists a kind of laughter which is worthy to be ranked with the higher lyric emotions and is infinitely different from the twitching of a mean merrymaker.

Steeds, steeds, what steeds! Has the whirlwind a home in your manes?