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Thank you, she whispered, for keeping yourself alive, soldier. You're welcome, he whispered back.

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Welcome
Alive
Back
Whispered
Keeping
Thank
Soldier

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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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Love is, to be loved,” said Alexander, “in return.
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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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Courage, Alexan­der,” she whis­pered. “Courage, Ta­tiana.
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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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Daughters are supposed to be friends to their mothers in their old age.
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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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I love you breathlessly, my amazing man.
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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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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 you believe in? What do you hope for? But most important - ask: what do you love? ... I know who I am, she thought, taking his hand and turning to the altar. I am Tatiana. And I believe in, and hope for, and love Alexander for life.
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In Alexander's life there was one thread that could not be broken by death, by distance, by time, by war. Could not be broken. As long as I am in the world, she said with her breath and her body, as long as I am, you are permanent, soldier.
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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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The power you have over someone who loves you is greater than any other power you'll ever have.
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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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I'll take your breath any way you give it to me, Shura.
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Courage, Alexander..... Courage, Tatiana
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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.
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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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