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To love all ages yield surrender But to the young it's raptures bring A blessing bountiful and tender- As storms refresh the fields of spring.
Alexander Pushkin
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Alexander Pushkin
Age: 37 †
Born: 1799
Born: June 6
Died: 1837
Died: February 10
Author
Book Collector
Dramaturge
Essayist
Historian
Librettist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Opinion Journalist
Playwright
Moscow
Russian SFSR
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin
Aleksandr Pushkin
Aleksandr Serge'evich Pushkin
Pushkin
Spring
Rapture
Fields
Storms
Bring
Tender
Age
Yield
Young
Ages
Surrender
Raptures
Love
Storm
Bountiful
Blessing
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More quotes by Alexander Pushkin
My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you.
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Write for pleasure and publish for money.
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I do not like Moscow life. You live here not as you want to live, but as old women want you to.
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Better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths.
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I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.
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As long as there is one heart on Earth where I still live, my memory will not die.
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In this, our age of infamy Man's choice is but to be A tyrant, traitor, prisoner: No other choice has he.
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Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane.
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'Tis time, my friend, 'tis time! For rest the heart is aching Days follow days in flight, and every day is taking, Fragments of being, while together you and I, Make plans to live. Look, all is dust, and we shall die.
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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.
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A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.
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Inspiration is needed in geometry, just as much as in poetry.
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My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
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I am married and happy. My only wish is that nothing will change.
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With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.
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Cabbage soup and barley. They're Russia's national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous.
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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.
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It is better to have dreamed a thousand dreams that never were than never to have dreamed at all.
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