Anton Chekhov

“A doctrine which advocates indifference to wealth and to the comforts of life, and a contempt for suffering and death [the Stoics'] is quite unintelligible to the vast majority of men, since that majority has never known wealth or the comforts of life; and to despise suffering would mean to despise life itself, since the whole existence of man is made up of the sensations of hunger, cold, injury, loss, and a Hamlet-like dread of death.”

“Ivanov: With a heavy head, with a slothful spirit, exhausted, overstretched, broken, without faith, without love, without a goal, I roam like a shadow among men and I don't know who I am, why I'm alive, what I want. And I now think that love is nonsense, that embraces are cloying, that there's no sense in work, that song and passionate speeches are vulgar and outmoded. And everywhere I take with me depression, chill boredom, dissatisfaction, revulsion from life... I am destroyed, irretrievably!”

“Lebedev: ...There'll be a scandal, the tongues of the whole district will buzz with gossip, but it's better to go through a scandal, isn't it, than to destroy yourself for your whole life.”

“Sasha: Men don't understand a lot of things. Every young girl is going to be drawn more to a failure than to a successful man, because they're all attracted by the notion of active love... Do you understand? Active. Men are busy with their work, and therefore for them love is something right in the background. A conversation with the wife, a stroll with her in the garden, a nice time, a cry on her grave - that's all. But for us love is life. I love you, that means that I dream of how I'll cure you of your depression, of how I'll go with you to the ends of the earth... When you're up, so am I; when you're down, so am I. ... The more work there is, the better love is ...”

“Ivanov: A naive man is a fool. But you women are clever enough to be naive so that it comes out in you as engaging and healthy and warm, and not so silly as it might seem. Only why do you all behave like this? While a man is healthy and strong and in good spirits, you pay him no attention, but as soon as he rolls down the slippery slope and starts complaining about his woes, you hang on his neck.”

“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 well and plausible in novels, but in life...Sasha: In life it's the same.Ivanov: I see you have a fine understanding of life!”

“Ivanov: I am a bad, pathetic and worthless individual. One needs to be pathetic, too, worn out and drained by drink, like Pasha, to be still fond of me and to respect me. My God, how I despise myself! I so deeply loathe my voice, my walk, my hands, these clothes, my thoughts. Well, isn't that funny, isn't that shocking? Less than a year ago I was healthy and strong, I was cheerful, tireless, passionate, I worked with these very hands, I could speak to move even Philistines to tears, I could cry when I saw grief, I became indignant when I encountered evil. I knew inspiration, I knew the charm and poetry of quiet nights when from dusk to dawn you sit at your desk or indulge you mind with dreams. I believed, I looked into the future as into the eyes of my own mother... And now, my God, I am exhausted, I do not believe, I spend my days and nights in idleness.”

“Lvov: I need to have a candid talk with you, Nikolay Alekseyevich.Ivanov: Doctor, if we're going to have a candid talk every day, I haven't the strength for it.”

“Lebedev: A time has come of sorrow and sadness for you. Man, my dear friend, is like a samovar. It doesn't always stand on a shelf in the chill but sometimes they put hot coals in it and it goes psh... psh! This comparison is worthless but you won't think up a cleverer one.”

“Ivanov: Gentlemen, you've again set up a drinking shop in my study... I have asked each and every one of you a thousand times not to do that... Look now, you've spilt vodka on a paper... and there are crumbs... and gherkins... It's disgusting!”

“Kosykh: What the hell... is there really no one even to talk to? We might as well be living in Australia: no common interests, no solidarity... Everyone lives separate lives...But I must go... it's time. [Takes his cap.] Time is precious. [Gives Lebedev his hand.] I pass!”

“Lebedev: France has a clear and defined policy... The French know what they want. They just want to wipe out the Krauts, finish, but Germany, my friend, is playing a very different tune. Germany has many more birds in her sights than just France...Shabelsky: Nonsense! ...In my view the German are cowards and the French are cowards... They're just thumbing their noses at each other. Believe me, things will stop there. They won't fight.Borkin: And as I see it, why fight? What's the point of these armaments, congresses, expenditures? You know what I'd do? I'd gather together dogs from all over the country, give them a good dose of rabies and let them loose in enemy country. In a month all my enemies would be running rabid.”

“Anna Petrovna: Never talk to women about your own good qualities. Let them find out for themselves.”

“Ivanov: No, my clever young thing, it's not a question of romance. I say as before God that I will endure everything - depression and mental illness and ruin and the loss of my wife and premature old age and loneliness - but I cannot tolerate, cannot endure being ridiculous in my own eyes. I'm dying of shame at the thought that I, a healthy, strong man, have turned into some sort of Hamlet or Manfred, some sort of 'superfluous man'... devil knows precisely what! There are pitiful people who are flattered by being called Hamlet or superfluous men, but for me it's a disgrace! It stirs up my pride, I'm overcome by shame and I suffer...”

“Ivanov: Once I worked hard and thought a lot but I never got tired; now I do nothing and think of nothing, but I'm tired in body and spirit. My conscience aches day and night, I feel deeply guilty but I don't understand where I am actually at fault. And add to that my wife's illness, my lack of money, the constant bickering, gossip, unnecessary conversations, that stupid Borkin... My home has become loathsome to me and I find living there worse than torture.”

“Borkin: Ladies and gentlemen, why are you so glum? Sitting there like a jury after it's been sworn in! ... Let's think up something. What would you like? Forfeits, tug of war, catch, dancing, fireworks?”

“Levedev: It's no great thing to drink - a horse too can drink... No, one must drink intelligently... in our time we used to struggle with lectures all day, but as soon as evening came we went straight off somewhere where the lights were shining and spun like tops til dawn... ... We would talk nonsense and philosophy till our tongues went numb... But today's lot... I don't understand... They wouldn't make God a candle or the Devil a poker.”

“Lvov: Now explain, give me an account of how it is that you, an intelligent, honest, almost saintly woman, have allowed yourself to be so brazenly deceived, to be dragged into this owl's nest. Why are you here? What have you in common with this cold, heartless... but let's forget your husband -- what do you have in common with this empty vulgar milieu?”

“Anna Petrovna: I am beginning to think, doctor, that fate has cheated me. The majority of people, who maybe are no better than I am, are happy and pay nothing for that happiness. I have paid for everything, absolutely everything! And how dearly! Why have I paid such terrible interest?”

“Anna Petrovna: Do you know what, Kolya? Try and sing, laugh, get angry, as you once did... You stay in, we'll laugh and drink fruit liqueur and we'll drive away your depression in a flash. I'll sing if you like. Or else let's go and sit in the dark in your study as we used to, and you'll tell me about your depression... You have such suffering eyes. I'll look into them and cry, and we'll both feel better.”

“Anna Petrovna: Kolya, my dearest, stay at home.Ivanov: My love, my unhappy darling, I beg you, don't stop me going out in the evenings. It's cruel and unjust on my part, but let me commit that injustice. It's an agony for me at home. As soon as the sun disappears, my spirit begins to be weighed down by depression. What depression! Don't ask why. I myself don't know. I swear by God's truth I don't know. Here I'm in anguish, I go to the Lebedevs and there it's still worse; I return from there and here it's depression again, and so all night... Simply despair!”

“Shabelsky: I'd go into the flames of hell, into the jaws of the crocodile, just so as not to stay here. I am bored.I've become dulled from boredom. I've got on everyone's nerves. You leave me at home so she isn't bored alone, but I've made her life hell, I've eaten her up!”

“Ivanov: You only qualified last year, my dear friend, you're still young and confident, but I am thirty-five. I have the right to give you some advice. Don't marry a Jew or a psychopath or a bluestocking but choose yourself someone ordinary, someone a shade of grey, with no bright colour and no superfluous noises. In general, construct your whole life on a conventional pattern. The greyer, the more monotonous the background, the better. My dear fellow, don't do battle against thousands all on your own, don't tilt against windmills, don't beat your head against walls... And may God preserve you from all kinds of rational farming, newfangled schools, fiery speeches... Shut yourself in your shell and do your little God-given business... It's snugger, healthier and more honest.”

“Anna Petrovna (to Shabelsky): You can't make a simple joke without an injection of venom. You are a poisonous man. Joking apart, Count, you're very poisonous. It's hideously boring to live with you. You're always grumpy, complaining, you find everyone bad, good for nothing. Tell me frankly, Count, did you ever speak well of anyone?”

“Shabelsky: O mind of genius, you think up things for everyone and teach everyone, but why not for once teach me... Teach me, great brain, show me the way out...”

“Shabelsky: Doctors are the same as lawyers, the sole difference being that lawyers only rob you, but doctors rob you and kill you too...”

“TOUZENBACHSi vous voulez. De quoi parlerons-nous ?VERCHININEDe quoi ? Rêvons ensemble... par exemple de la vie telle qu’elle sera après nous, dans deux ou trois cents ans.TOUZENBACHEh bien, après nous on s’envolera en ballon, on changera la coupe des vestons, on découvrira peut-être un sixième sens, qu’on développera, mais la vie restera la même, un vie difficile, pleine de mystère, et heureuse. Et dans mille ans, l’homme soupirera comme aujourd’hui : « Ah ! qu’il est difficile de vivre ! » Et il aura toujours peur de la mort et ne voudra pas mourir.VERCHININE, après avoir réfléchi.Comment vous expliquer ? Il me semble que tout va se transformer peu à peu, que le changement s’accomplit déjà, sous nos yeux. Dans deux ou trois cents ans, dans mille ans peut-être, peu importe le délai, s’établira une vie nouvelle, heureuse. Bien sûr, nous ne serons plus là, mais c’est pour cela que nous vivons, travaillons, souffrons enfin, c’est nous qui la créons, c’est même le seul but de notre existence, et si vous voulez, de notre bonheur.Macha rit doucement.TOUZENBACHPourquoi riez-vous ?MACHAJe ne sais pas. Je ris depuis ce matin.VERCHININEJ’ai fait les mêmes études que vous, je n’ai pas été à l’Académie militaire. Je lis beaucoup, mais je ne sais pas choisir mes lectures, peut-être devrais-je lire tout autre chose ; et cependant, plus je vis, plus j’ai envie de savoir. Mes cheveux blanchissent, bientôt je serai vieux, et je ne sais que peu, oh ! très peu de chose. Pourtant, il me semble que je sais l’essentiel, et que je le sais avec certitude. Comme je voudrais vous prouver qu’il n’y a pas, qu’il ne doit pas y avoir de bonheur pour nous, que nous ne le connaîtrons jamais... Pour nous, il n’y a que le travail, rien que le travail, le bonheur, il sera pour nos lointains descendants. (Un temps.) Le bonheur n’est pas pour moi, mais pour les enfants de mes enfants.TOUZENBACHAlors, d’après vous, il ne faut même pas rêver au bonheur ? Mais si je suis heureux ?VERCHININENon.TOUZENBACH, joignant les mains et riant.Visiblement, nous ne nous comprenons pas. Comment vous convaincre ? (Macha rit doucement. Il lui montre son index.) Eh bien, riez ! (À Verchinine :) Non seulement dans deux ou trois cents ans, mais dans un million d’années, la vie sera encore la même ; elle ne change pas, elle est immuable, conforme à ses propres lois, qui ne nous concernent pas, ou dont nous ne saurons jamais rien. Les oiseaux migrateurs, les cigognes, par exemple, doivent voler, et quelles que soient les pensées, sublimes ou insignifiantes, qui leur passent par la tête, elles volent sans relâche, sans savoir pourquoi, ni où elles vont. Elles volent et voleront, quels que soient les philosophes qu’il pourrait y avoir parmi elles ; elles peuvent toujours philosopher, si ça les amuse, pourvu qu’elles volent... MACHATout de même, quel est le sens de tout cela ?TOUZENBACHLe sens... Voilà, il neige. Où est le sens ?MACHAIl me semble que l’homme doit avoir une foi, du moins en chercher une, sinon sa vie est complètement vide... Vivre et ignorer pourquoi les cigognes volent, pourquoi les enfants naissent, pourquoi il y a des étoiles au ciel... Il faut savoir pourquoi l’on vit, ou alors tout n’est que balivernes et foutaises. Comme dit Gogol : « Il est ennuyeux de vivre en ce monde, messieurs. »”

“À Moscou, on s’installe dans une immense salle de restaurant, on ne connaît personne, personne ne vous connaît, et pourtant, on ne se sent pas isolé. Alors qu’ici, on connaît tout le monde, tout le monde vous connaît, et vous vous sentez comme étranger. Étranger, et solitaire.”

“And in this constancy, in this complete indifference to the life and death of each of us, there lies hid, perhaps, a pledge of our eternal salvation, of the unceasing movement of life upon earth, of unceasing progress towards perfection.”

“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.”

“E ca o piatră care-mi stă legată de gat şi mă trage la fund, dar vezi, eu iubesc piatra asta şi nu pot fără ea.”

“Tot ceea ce ne depăşeşte azi într-o zi va fi un lucru pe înţelesul tuturor, obişnuit.”

“it's hard to avoid the suspicion that in seeing all the trees I missed the wood”

“You are right to demand that an author be conscious of what he is doing, but you are confusing two concepts: solving the problem and correctly formulating the problem. Only the latter is required of the artist.”

“My holy of holies in the human body, health, intelligence, talent, inspiration, love and absolute freedom-freedom from force and falsehood.”

“LUBOV. I'm quite sure there wasn't anything at all funny. You oughtn't to go and see plays, you ought to go and look at yourself. What a grey life you lead, what a lot you talk unnecessarily.”

“Unde e artă, unde-i talent, până și moartea-i ceva relativ...”

“. . . who loved without any genuine feeling, with superfluous phrases, affectedly, hysterically, with an expression that suggested that it was not love nor passion, but something more significant; . . .”

“I should think I'm going to be a perpetual student.”

“Your talent sets you apart: if you were a toad or a tarantula, even then, people would respect you, for to talent all things are forgiven.”

“How easy it is, Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and how difficult in real life!”

“NINAThink of me sometimes.TRIGORINI shall never forget you. I shall always remember you as I saw you that bright day--do you recall it?--a week ago, when you wore your light dress, and we talked together, and the white seagull lay on the bench beside us.”

“Varia se teme sã nu ne îndrãgostim unul de altul si se þine toatã ziua de noi. Cu mintea ei strîmtã, ea nu poate înþelege cã noi suntem mai presus de dragoste, cã nãzuim sã ne ridicãm peste tot ce e meschin si trecãtor, peste tot ceea ce ne împiedicã sã fim liberi si fericiþi. Iatã adevãratul înþeles si þelul vieþii noastre: înainte! Nimic nu ne va opri sã ne urmãm calea spre steaua ce strãluceste aprinsã în depãrtare. Inainte, deci! Sã nu rãmîneti în urmã, prieteni...”

“Dulapul a fost făcut exact acum o sută de ani. Ce spui? Am putea să-i serbăm jubileul! Fără îndoială, e un lucru neînsufletit, totusi, oricum ar fi, e un dulap de cărti. (…) (Pipãind dulapul.) Dulap scump si stimat! Salut existenta ta, care de o sutã de ani e destinatã idealului luminos al binelui si dreptãtii! Chemarea ta tãcutã pentru o muncã rodnicã n-a slãbit de-alungul unui veac întreg, susþinînd (printre lacrimi) în familia noastrã, din tatã în fiu, curajul si credina generatiilor într-un viitor mai bun, crescîndu-ne în spiritul idealurilor de bine si ale constiinþei sociale...”

“Rãsare luna. (Pauzã.) latã fericirea! Uite-o, vine, se apropie tot mai mult, tot mai mult, îi aud pasii. Si chiar dacã noi n-o vom vedea, n-o vom cunoaste, n-are nici o importanþã... Vor vedea-o altii!”

“Dar cîti oameni sînt, frate, în Rusia, care nici nu stiu de ce sînt pe pãmînt!”

“Noi filozofãm doar, ne plîngem de plictisealã si bem vodcã. Vezi, e atît de limpede cã pentru a începe sã trãiesti cu adevãrat trebuie mai întîi sã-þi rãscumperi trecutul, sã isprãveºti cu el! Si nu poþi sã-l rãscumperi decît prin suferinþã, printr-o muncã uriasã si neîntreruptã!”

“Cîteodatã, cînd nu pot s-adorm, mã gîndesc: «Doamne, tu ne-ai dat pãduri nesfîrsite, cîmpii cît vezi cu ochii, zãri fãrã de margini, si trãind în ele, ar fi trebuit sã fim si noi niste uriasi...»”

“Dã-mi, Doamne, ce n-am gîndit, sã mã mir ce m-a gãsit... Aşa şi cu mine. De îmbogãţit m-am îmbogãţit, am parale cu carul... Dar cînd stau sã chibzuiesc şi sã judec mai bine, tot ţãran am rãmas...”

“Daca pentru o boala se prescriu multe leacuri, sa stii ca boala e de nelecuit.”