“Loving the same man or woman all your life, why, that's like supposing the same candle could last you all your life”

Leo Tolstoy

“Every man and every living creature has a sacred right to the gladness of springtime.”

Leo Tolstoy

“He felt himself, and did not want to be anyone else. All he wanted now was to be better than before.”

Leo Tolstoy

“Drops Dripped. Quiet talk went on. Horses neighed and scuffled. Someone snored.”

Leo Tolstoy

“These loaves, pigeons, and two little boys seemed unearthly. It all happened at the same time: a little boy ran over to a pigeon, glancing over at Levin with a smile; the pigeon flapped its wings and fluttered, gleaming in the sunshine among the snowdust quivering in the air, while the smell of freshly baked bread was wafted out of a little window as the loaves were put out. All this together was so extraordinarily wonderful that Levin burst out laughing and crying for joy.”

Leo Tolstoy

“I must ask what it is you want of me?" "What can I want? All I can want is that you should not desert me, as you think of doing," she said, understanding all he had not uttered. "But that I don't want; that's secondary. I want love, and there is none. So then all is over.”

Leo Tolstoy

“No one is satisfied with his fortune,and everyone is satisfied with his wit.”

Leo Tolstoy

“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.”

Leo Tolstoy

“nothing has contributed so much to the obscuring of Christian truth in the eyes of the heathen, and has hindered so much the diffusion of Christianity through the world, as the disregard of [non-resistance] by men calling themselves Christians, and the permission of war and violence to Christians.

Leo Tolstoy

“If a man lives, then he believes in something. If he didn't believe that one must live for something, then he wouldn't live. If he doesn't see and doesn't understand the illusoriness of the finite, he believes in the infinite; if he does understand the illusoriness of the finite, he must believe in the infinite without which one cannot live.”

Leo Tolstoy

“My writing is like those little carved baskets made in prisons...”

Leo Tolstoy

“When Levin thought what he was and what he was living for, he could find no answer to the questions and was reduced to despair; but when he left off questioning himself about it, it seemed as though he knew both what he was and what he was living for, acting and living resolutely and without hesitation.”

Leo Tolstoy

“And the moujiks? How do the moujiks die?”

Leo Tolstoy

“It would be a sin to help you destroy yourself.”

Leo Tolstoy

“Well, what is that to me? I can't see her!" she cried.”

Leo Tolstoy


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