No author has created with less emphasis such pathetic characters as Chekhov has.

What surprises you in life? The marvel of consciousness -- that sudden window swinging open on a sunlit landscape amidts the night of non-being.

He broke my heart. You merely broke my life.

Do those clowns really believe what they teach?

You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Once upon a time there lived in Berlin, Germany, a man called Albinus. He was rich, respectable, happy; one day he abandoned his wife for the sake of a youthful mistress; he loved; was not loved; and his life ended in disaster. This is the whole of the story and we might have left it at that had there not been profit and pleasure in the telling; and although there is plenty of space on a gravestone to contain, bound in moss, the abridged version of a man's life, detail is always welcome.

It's a pity one can't imagine what one can't compare to anything. Genius is an African who dreams up snow.