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Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane.
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
Highly
Vain
Wine
Like
Inane
Capricious
Brilliance
Mistress
More quotes by Alexander Pushkin
Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.
Alexander Pushkin
I loved you even now I may confess, Some embers of my love their fire retain But do not let it cause you more distress, I do not want to sadden you again. Hopeless and tongue tied, yet I loved you dearly With pangs the jealous and the timid know So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely, I pray God grant another love you so.
Alexander Pushkin
With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.
Alexander Pushkin
Moscow... how many strains are fusing in that one sound, for Russian hearts! What store of riches it imparts!
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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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Better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths.
Alexander Pushkin
Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.
Alexander Pushkin
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
Alexander Pushkin
In this, our age of infamy Man's choice is but to be A tyrant, traitor, prisoner: No other choice has he.
Alexander Pushkin
Thank you, darling, for learning to play chess. It is an absolute necessity for any well organized family. (in a letter to his wife)
Alexander Pushkin
I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul The former love has never gone away, But let it not recall to you my dole I wish not sadden you in any way. I loved you silently, without hope, fully, In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain I loved you so tenderly and truly, As let you else be loved by any man.
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Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.
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Sad that our finest aspiration, Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.
Alexander Pushkin
My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
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.
Alexander Pushkin
Habit is Heaven's own redress: it takes the place of happiness.
Alexander Pushkin
The less we show our love to a woman, Or please her less, and neglect our duty, The more we trap and ruin her surely, In the flattering toils of philandery.
Alexander Pushkin
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
Alexander Pushkin
I was not born to amuse the Tsars.
Alexander Pushkin
Write for pleasure and publish for money.
Alexander Pushkin