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But the division in him was a sorrow and a torment, and he became accustomed to it only as one gets used to an unhealed and frequently reopened wound.

Boris Pasternak

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Boris Pasternak
Age: 70 †
Born: 1890
Born: February 10
Died: 1960
Died: May 30
Novelist
Pianist
Playwright
Poet
Prosaist
Translator
Writer
Moscow
Russian SFSR
Holiwis
Boris Leonidovich Pasternak
Division
Wounds
Sorrow
Became
Gets
Torment
Used
Wound
Accustomed
Frequently

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I love you wildly, insanely, infinitely.
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... the unarmed power of naked truth.
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During the last years of Mayakovski's life, when all poetry had ceased to exist . . . literature had stopped.
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We're all time's captives, hostages to eternity.
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How wonderful to be alive, he thought. But why does it always hurt?
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And why is it, thought Lara, that my fate is to see everything and take it all so much to heart?
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Immensely grateful, touched, proud, astonished, abashed.
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All mothers are mothers of great people, and it is not their fault that life later disappoints them.
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As before the collapse, the setting sun brushed the tiles, brought out the warm brown glow on the wallpaper, and hung the shadow of the birch on the wall as if it were a woman's scarf.
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