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

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 62
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Alexander
Return
Loved
Love

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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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The power you have over someone who loves you is greater than any other power you'll ever have.
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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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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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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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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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Tania, there is so much still ahead of you. Be patient with life
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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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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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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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Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart.
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Daughters are supposed to be friends to their mothers in their old age.
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Courage, Alexander..... Courage, Tatiana
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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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I love you. I'm blind for you, wild for you. Sick with you. I told you that our first night together when I asked you to marry me, I am telling you now. Everything that's happened to us, everything, is because I crossed the street for you. I worship you. You know that through and through.
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There is a very definite Russian heart in me that never dies. I think you're born and you live your life with it and you die with it. I'm very much an American - my books tend to be about American things, but inside there's that sort of tortured, long-suffering, aching, constantly analysing Russian soul underneath the happy American exterior.
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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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Love is when he is hungry and you feed him. Love is knowing when he is hungry.
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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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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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