Anton Chekhov

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”

“If you cry "Forward," you must make plain in what direction to go.”

“Men are made for happiness, and anyone who is completely happy has a right to say to himself: "I am doing God's will on earth."”

“Medicine is my lawful wife. Literature is my mistress.”

“A man and a woman marry because both of them don't know what to do with themselves.”

“Man is what he believes.”

“My own experience is that once a story has been written, one has to cross out the beginning and the end. It is there that we authors do most of our lying . . . one must ruthlessly suppress e...”

“You have lost your reason and taken the wrong path. You have taken lies for truth, and hideousness for beauty. You would marvel if, owing to strange events of some sorts, frogs and lizards s...”

“There is nothing good in this world that does not have some filth in its origin.”

“The illusion which exalts us is dearer to us than ten thousand truths.”

“Wisdom.... comes not from age, but from education and learning.”

“And I despise your books, I despise wisdom and the blessings of this world. It is all worthless, fleeting, illusory, and deceptive, like a mirage. You may be proud, wise, and fine, but death...”

“And only now, when he was gray-haired, had he fallen in love properly, thoroughly, for the first time in his life.”

“Ivanov: And this whole romance of ours is commonplace and trite: he lost heart, and he lost his way. She came along, strong and brave in spirit, and gave him an helping hand. That's all very...”

“And what does it mean -- dying? Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and only the five we know are lost at death, while the other ninety-five remain alive.”

“Even in Siberia there is happiness.”

“Three o'clock in the morning. The soft April night is looking at my windows and caressingly winking at me with its stars. I can't sleep, I am so happy.”

“What they sang had occurred to him before, but this thought had somehow sat behind other thoughts in his head and flashed timidly, like a distant lantern in misty weather. And he felt that t...”

“Why are we worn out? Why do we, who start out so passionate, brave, noble, believing, become totally bankrupt by the age of thirty or thirty-five? Why is it that one is extinguished by consu...”

“If Makar Denisych was just a clerk or a junior manager, then no one would have dared talk to him in such a condescending, casual tone, but he is a 'writer', and a talentless mediocrity! Peop...”