“Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life's impossible; and that I can't know, and
so I can't live," Levin said to himself.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“I know now that people only seem to live when they care only for themselves, and that it is
by love for others that they really live. He who has Love has God in him, and is in God - -
because God is Love. ”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“I often think that men don't understand what is noble and what is ignorant, though they always
talk about it.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“Life is too long to say anything definitely; always say perhaps.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“Pierre's insanity consisted in the fact that he did not wait, as before, for personal reasons,
which he called people's merits, in order to love them, but love overflowed his heart, and,
loving people without reason, he discovered the unquestionable reasons for which it was
worth loving them”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“He soon felt that the realization of his longing gave him only one grain of the mountain of
bliss he had anticipated. That realization showed him the eternal error men make by imagining
that happiness consists in the gratification of their wishes.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“The vocation of every man and woman is to serve people. ”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“kitty always assumed the most beautiful things about people”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“Natasha was happy as she had never been in her life. She was at that highest pitch of
happiness, when one becomes completely good and kind, and disbelieves in the very
possibility of evil, unhappiness, and sorrow.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“Love them that hate you, but you can't love those you hate.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“We love people not so much for the good they've done us, as for the good we've done
them.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“There is an old Eastern fable about a traveler who is taken unawares on the steppes by a
ferocious wild animal. In order to escape the beast the traveler hides in an empty well, but at
the bottom of the well he sees a dragon with its jaws open, ready to devour him. The poor
fellow does not dare to climb out because he is afraid of being eaten by the rapacious beast,
neither does he dare drop to the bottom of the well for fear of being eaten by the dragon. So
he seizes hold of a branch of a bush that is growing in the crevices of the well and clings on to
it. His arms grow weak and he knows that he will soon have to resign himself to the death that
awaits him on either side. Yet he still clings on, and while he is holding on to the branch he
looks around and sees that two mice, one black and one white, are steadily working their way
round the bush he is hanging from, gnawing away at it. Sooner or later they will eat through it
and the branch will snap, and he will fall into the jaws of the dragon. The traveler sees this and
knows that he will inevitably perish. But while he is still hanging there he sees some drops of
honey on the leaves of the bush, stretches out his tongue and licks them. In the same way I
am clinging to the tree of life, knowing full well that the dragon of death inevitably awaits me,
ready to tear me to pieces, and I cannot understand how I have fallen into this torment. And Itry licking the honey that once consoled me, but it no longer gives me pleasure. The white
mouse and the black mouse – day and night – are gnawing at the branch from which I am
hanging. I can see the dragon clearly and the honey no longer tastes sweet. I can see only
one thing; the inescapable dragon and the mice, and I cannot tear my eyes away from them.
And this is no fable but the truth, the truth that is irrefutable and intelligible to everyone.
―
Leo Tolstoy
“Now one often saw only her face and body, while her soul was not seen at all.”
―
Leo Tolstoy
“But the older he grew and the more intimately he came to know his brother, the oftener the
thought occurred to him that the power of working for the general welfare – a power of whichhe felt himself entirely destitute – was not a virtue but rather a lack of something: not a lack of
kindly honesty and noble desires and tastes, but a lack of the power of living, of what is called
heart – the aspiration which makes a man choose one out of all the innumerable paths of life
that present themselves, and desire that alone.”
―
Leo Tolstoy