Ivan Turgenev
Ivan Turgenev
Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenevwas a Russian novelist, short story writer, and playwright. His first major publication, a short story collection entitled A Sportsman's Sketches, was a milestone of Russian Realism, and his novel Fathers and Sonsis regarded as one of the major works of 19th-century fiction...
NationalityRussian
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth9 November 1818
CountryRussian Federation
feelings want unfortunate
I'm incapable of describing the feeling with which I left. I wouldn't want it ever to be repeated, but I would have considered myself unfortunate if I'd never experienced it.
want force
Don't force me into saying what I don't want to say, and what I won't say.
memories long want
Behind me there are already so many memories (...) Lots of memories, but no point in remembering them, and ahead of me a long, long road with nothing to aim for ... I just don't want to go along it.
heart thinking want
I was afraid of looking into my heart...afraid of thinking seriously about anything...I did not want to know whether I was loved, and I did not want to admit to myself that I was not loved...
heaven looks want
I look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.
flies man notice passes swiftly time whether
Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.
believe boldness
The boldness to believe in nothing (Fathers and Sons)
defect injure mortify reproach vice
To mortify and even to injure an opponent, reproach him with the very defect or vice you feel in yourself
grant itself man prayer prays twice whatever
Whatever man prays for, he prays for a miracle. Every prayer reduces itself to thisGreat God, grant that twice two be not four.
absolutely moment shall wait
... if we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin.
sweet significance
Significance is sweet ...
sinking-feeling feelings would-be
Only one thing bothered me: at this very moment, as they say, of inexplicable bliss there would be a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach and my abdomen would be assailed by a melancholy, cold shivering. In the end I couldn't abide such happiness and ran away.
grieving green meadows
I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.
fool monsters conquer
We’re young, we’re not monsters, no fools: we’ll conquer happiness for ourselves.