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I don't want this life to end, said Alexander. The good, the bad, the everything, the very old, to ever end.

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Good
Life
Alexander
Ends
Ever
Everything

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But on that sunlit Sunday, Alexander knew nothing, thought nothing, imagined nothing. He forgot Dimitri and war and the Soviet Union and escape plans, and even America, and crossed the street for Tatiana Metanova.
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You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.
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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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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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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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When I was growing up, 'Anna Karenina' was one of my favourite books.
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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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Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart.
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And then, because she was Tatiana and because she couldn’t help herself, and because he wouldn’t have it any other way, she ran to him and was in his arms.
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Will you remember that? Anywhere you are, if you can look up and find Perseus in the sky, find that smile, and hear the galactic wind whisper your name, you'll know that it's me, calling for you... calling you back to Lazarevo. (Alexander)
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The power you have over someone who loves you is greater than any other power you'll ever have.
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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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They had no past. They had no future. They just were.
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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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Alexander knew that before he had light instead of darkness, he had to deserve light instead of darkness.
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Love is, to be loved,” said Alexander, “in return.
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Awash in a flood of hostility and despair, they battled and railed and shattered their bodies on one another, unable to find one strand, one sobering swallow of solace.
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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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Tatiana had imagined her Alexander since she was a child, before she believed that someone like him was even possible. When she was a little girl, she dreamed of a fine world in which a good man walked its winding roads, perhaps somewhere in his wandering soul searching for her.
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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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