“Send him to the devil, I'm busy.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Well Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist— and I really believe he is Antichrist—I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave', as you call yourself! But how are you? I see I have frightened you—sit down and tell me all the news.

― Leo Tolstoy

“Her motherly instinct told her that there was too much of something in Natasha, and that it would prevent her from being happy.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt it in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Whatever our fate is or may be, we have made it and do not complain of it."

― Leo Tolstoy

“Whatever we may say about the soul going to the sky... we know there is no sky but only an atmosphere.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Yes, there is something uncanny, demonic and fascinating in her.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Everything that I Know, I Know Only Because I Love...”

― Leo Tolstoy

“My writing is like those little carved baskets made in prisons...”

― Leo Tolstoy

“As though I had been going steadily downhill, imagining that I was going uphill. So it was in fact. In public opinion I was going uphill, and steadily as I got up it, life was ebbing away from me....And now the work's done, there's only death.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“All that day she had had the feeling that she was playing in the theatre with actors better than herself and that her poor playing spoiled the whole thing.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Everything intelligent is so boring.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“Self-conceit is a sentiment entirely incompatible with genuine sorrow, and it is so firmly engrafted on human nature that even the most profound sorrow can seldom expel it altogether. Vanity in sorrow expresses itself by a desire to appear either stricken with grief or unhappy or brave: and this ignoble desire which we do not acknowledge but which hardly ever leaves us even in the deepest trouble robs our grief of its strength, dignity and sincerity.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“There was no solution, but that universal solution which life gives to all questions, even the most complex and insoluble. That answer is: one must live in the needs of the day—that is, forget oneself. To forget himself in sleep was impossible now, at least till nighttime; he could not go back now to the music sung by the decanter-women; so he must forget himself in the dream of daily life.”

― Leo Tolstoy

“For the first time in his life he knew the bitterest sort of misfortune, misfortune beyond remedy, misfortune his own fault.”

― Leo Tolstoy


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