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But if you had asked him what his work was, he would look candidly and openly at you with his large bright eyes through his gold pincenez, and would answer in a soft, velvety, lisping baritone: My work is literature.
Anton Chekhov
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Anton Chekhov
Age: 44 †
Born: 1860
Born: January 1
Died: 1904
Died: January 1
Author
Dramaturge
Journalist
Novelist
Physician
Playwright
Prosaist
Satirist
Writer
Tahanroh
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Antón Pávlovič Čéhov
Antón Pávlovich Chékhov
Chekhov
Would
Asked
Baritones
Answers
Candidly
Eyes
Openly
Literature
Soft
Eye
Bright
Look
Large
Lisping
Looks
Gold
Velvety
Work
Answer
Baritone
More quotes by Anton Chekhov
Humankind has understood history as a series of battles because, to this day, it regards conflict as the central facet of life.
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People who lead a lonely existence always have something on their minds that they are eager to talk about.
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In nature a repulsive caterpillar turns into a lovely butterfly. But with human beings it is the other way round: a lovely butterfly turns into a repulsive caterpillar.
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What a fine weather today! Can’t choose whether to drink tea or to hang myself.
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To Moscow, to Moscow, to Moscow!
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Life is difficult for those who have the daring to first set out on an unknown road. The avant-garde always has a bad time of it.
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I swear fearfully at the conventions of the stage.
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Lying is the same as alcoholism. Liars prevaricate even on their deathbeds.
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Dear, sweet, unforgettable childhood! Why does this irrevocable time, forever departed, seem brighter, more festive and richer than it actually was?
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For the salvation of his soul the Muslim digs a well. It would be a fine thing if each of us were to leave behind a school, or a well, or something of the sort, so that life would not pass by and retreat into eternity without a trace.
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Let the things that happen on the stage be just as complex and yet just as simple as they are in life. For instance, people are having a meal, just having a meal, but at the same time their happiness is being created, or their lives are being smashed up.
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I would like to be a free artist and nothing else, and I regret God has not given me the strength to be one.
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This life of ours...human life is like a flower gloriously blooming in a meadow: along comes a goat, eats it up---no more flower.
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What must human beings be, to destroy what they can never create?
Anton Chekhov
I confess I seldom commune with my conscience when I write.
Anton Chekhov
A litterateur is not a confectioner, not a dealer in cosmetics, not an entertainer. . . . He is just like an ordinary reporter. What would you say if a newspaper reporter, because of his fastidiousness or from a wish to give pleasure to his readers, were to describe only honest mayors, high-minded ladies, and virtuous railroad contractors.
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You look boldly ahead isn't it only that you don't see or divine anything terrible in the future because life is still hidden from your young eyes.
Anton Chekhov
Here I am with you & yet not for a single moment do I forget that there's an unfinished novel waiting for me.
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I don't like being successful the subjects which sit in my head are annoyed and jealous of what has already been written.
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There is nothing new in art except talent.
Anton Chekhov