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Alexander knew that before he had light instead of darkness, he had to deserve light instead of darkness.

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Knew
Light
Alexander
Deserve
Darkness
Instead

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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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With my writing, because I live it, I have to be consumed by it, and that means you have to forget your other life, which is constantly pulling you from your work.
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I was blinded by stupidity for a brief moment in our life, for a flicker in the eternity in which you and I live, and I stumbled.
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I know that sometimes the things we carry become too much for us. We are burned down, but somehow we have to pick ourselves up and keep going
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I'll take your breath any way you give it to me, Shura.
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You have to keep your audience in your mind if you're writing stuff that you know nobody's going to care about then you should rethink what you're doing!
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They had no past. They had no future. They just were.
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Tania, last time in Morozovo, I let you go, but not this time. This time we live together or we die together.
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I'm not hungry, Alexander whispered. I'm famished. Watch out for me. Now, don't make a single sound, he said, moving on top of her. Tania, God....I'll cover your mouth, just like this, and you hold on to me, just like this, and I'm going to-just like this-
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And that's my point: all great things worth having require great sacrifice worth giving.
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When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street.
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Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart.
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Tatiana realized she was too young to hide well what was in her heart but old enough to know that her heart was in her eyes.
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Ask yourself these three questions, Tatiana Metanova, and you will know who you are. Ask: What do believe in? What do you hope for? What do you love?
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This is days and days and months and years and all the minutes in between, just you me.
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We can’t forget that I owe you my life.” She gazed at him. “We can’t forget that I belong to you.” “I like that sound of that,” Alexander said, hugging her tighter.
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We’ll meet again in Lvov, my love and I…” Tatiana hums, eating her ice cream, in our Leningrad, in jasmine June, near Fontanka, the Neva, the Summer Garden, where we are forever young.
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Courage, Alexan­der,” she whis­pered. “Courage, Ta­tiana.
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