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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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Tania, there is so much still ahead of you. Be patient with life
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And that's my point: all great things worth having require great sacrifice worth giving.
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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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I love you breathlessly, my amazing man.
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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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Courage, Alexan­der,” she whis­pered. “Courage, Ta­tiana.
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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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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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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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Dear God, Tatiana prayed in bed that night, turning to the wall and pulling the white sheet and the thin brown blanket over herself. If You are there somewhere, please teach me how to hide what I never knew how to show.
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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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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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I'll take your breath any way you give it to me, Shura.
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You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.
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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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This is days and days and months and years and all the minutes in between, just you me.
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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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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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Daughters are supposed to be friends to their mothers in their old age.
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Tatiana: Why did we spend two days fighting when we could have been doing this? Alexander: That wasn't fighting, Tatiana. That was foreplay.
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