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Love is, to be loved,” said Alexander, “in return.

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Alexander
Return
Loved
Love

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I love you breathlessly, my amazing man.
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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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Courage, Alexander..... Courage, Tatiana
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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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We thought the hard part was over—but we were wrong. Living is the hardest part. Figuring out how to live your life when you’re all busted up inside and out—there is nothing harder.
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I tend to be a great optimist when it comes to the United States and the American way of life, I think precisely because I wasn't born into it.
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Courage, Alexan­der,” she whis­pered. “Courage, Ta­tiana.
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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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Whenever you're unsure of yourself, whenever you're in doubt, ask yourself three questions. What do you believe in? What do you hope for? but most important, ask yourself, what do you love?
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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 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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You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.
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Good-bye, my moonsong and my breath, my white nights and golden days, my fresh water and my fire. Good-bye, and may you find a better life, find comfort again and your breathless smile, and when your beloved face lights up once more at the Western sunrise, be sure what I felt for you was not in vain. Good-bye and have faith, my Tatiana.
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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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Not bombs nor my broken heart can take away from me walking barefoot with you in jasmine June through the Field of Mars.
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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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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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He stared at her fists and at her face and said with upset incredulity, You promised me you would forgive me- Forgive you,Tatiana hissed through her teeth, tears streaming down her face, for your brave and indifferent face, Alexander! She groaned in pain. Not for your brave and indifferent heart.
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