“Well, pray if you like, only you'd do better to use your judgment.”

“When you love someone, you love the person as they are, and not as you'd like them to be.”

“"If you prefer it, Your Excellency, a private room will be free directly: Prince Golitsin with a lady. Fresh oysters have come in.""Ah, oysters!" Stepan Arkadyevich became thoughtful."How if we were to change our program, Levin?" he said, keeping his finger on the bill of fare. And his face expressed serious hesitation. "Are the oysters good? Mind, now!""They're Flensburg, Your Excellency. We've no Ostend.""Flensburg will do -- but are they fresh?""Only arrived yesterday.""Well, then, how if we were to begin with oysters, and so change the whole program? Eh?""It's all the same to me. I should like cabbage soup and porridge better than anything; but of course there's nothing like that here.""Porridge a la Russe, Your Honor would like?" said the Tatar, bending down to Levin, like a nurse speaking to a child."No, joking apart, whatever you choose is sure to be good. I've been skating, and I'm hungry. And don't imagine," he added, detecting a look of dissatisfaction on Oblonsky's face, "that I shan't appreciate your choice. I don't object to a good dinner.""I should hope so! After all, it's one of the pleasures of life," said Stepan Arkadyevich. "Well, then, my friend, you give us two -- or better say three-dozen oysters, clear soup with vegetables...""Printaniere," prompted the Tatar. But Stepan Arkadyevich apparently did not care to allow him the satisfaction of giving the French names of the dishes."With vegetables in it, you know. Then turbot with thick sauce, then... roast beef; and mind it's good. Yes, and capons, perhaps, and then stewed fruit."The Tatar, recollecting that it was Stepan Arkadyevich's way not to call the dishes by the names in the French bill of fare, did not repeat them after him, but could not resist rehearsing the whole menu to himself according to the bill: "Soupe printaniere, turbot sauce Beaumarchais, poulard a l'estragon, Macedoine de fruits..." and then instantly, as though worked by springs, laying down one bound bill of fare, he took up another, the list of wines, and submitted it to Stepan Arkadyevich."What shall we drink?""What you like, only not too much. Champagne," said Levin."What! to start with? You're right though, I dare say. Do you like the white seal?""Cachet blanc," prompted the Tatar."Very well, then, give us that brand with the oysters, and then we'll see.""Yes, sir. And what table wine?""You can give us Nuits. Oh, no -- better the classic Chablis.""Yes, sir. And your cheese, Your Excellency?""Oh, yes, Parmesan. Or would you like another?""No, it's all the same to me," said Levin, unable to suppress a smile.”

“With friends, one is well; but at home, one is better.”

“The younger sister was piqued, and in turn disparaged the life of a tradesman, and stood up for that of a peasant.“I would not change my way of life for yours,” said she. “We may live roughly, but at least we are free from anxiety. You live in better style than we do, but though you often earn more than you need, you are very likely to lose all you have. You know the proverb, ‘Loss and gain are brothers twain.’ It often happens that people who are wealthy one day are begging their bread the next. Our way is safer. Though a peasant’s life is not a fat one, it is a long one. We shall never grow rich, but we shall always have enough to eat.”The elder sister said sneeringly:“Enough? Yes, if you like to share with the pigs and the calves! What do you know of elegance or manners! However much your good man may slave, you will die as you are living-on a dung heap-and your children the same.”“Well, what of that?” replied the younger. “Of course our work is rough and coarse. But, on the other hand, it is sure; and we need not bow to any one. But you, in your towns, are surrounded by temptations; today all may be right, but tomorrow the Evil One may tempt your husband with cards, wine, or women, and all will go to ruin. Don’t such things happen often enough?”

“either you are so underdeveloped that you can't see all that you can do, or you won't sacrifice your ease, your vanity, or whatever it is, to do it...”

“Oh no, Papa, Kitty objected warmly. Varenka adores her. And besides, she does so much good! Ask anyone you like! Everybody knows her and Aline Stah. Perhaps, he said, pressing her arm with his elbow. But it is better to do good so that, ask whom you will, no one knows anything about it.”