#Quote
More Quotes by Alexander Pushkin
I’ve lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust; Now all that’s left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.
It's a lucky man who leaves early from life's banquet, before he's drained to the dregs his goblet - full of wine; yes, it's a lucky man who has not read life's novel to the end, but has been wise enough to part with it abruptly - like me with my Onegin.
It's a lucky man, a very lucky man, who is committed to what he believes, who has stifled intellectual detachment and can relax in the luxury of his emotions - like a tipsy traveller resting for the night at wayside inn.
The less we love her when we woo her, The more we draw a woman in,
If you but knew the flames that burn in me which I attempt to beat down with my reason.
My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you...
Play interests me very much," said Hermann: "but I am not in the position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the superfluous.
A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.
I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.
