Countless Are, As The Sand In The

It Is Well-known That There Are Many Faces In The World Over The Finishing Of Which Nature Did Not Take Much Trouble, Did Not Employ Any Fine Tools Such As Files, Gimlets, And So On, But Simply Hacked Them Out With Round Strokes: One Chop-a Nose Appears; Another Chop-lips Appear; Eyes Are Scooped Out With A Big Drill; And She Lets It Go Into The World Rough-hewn, Saing: "alive!

In The Course Of Reading He [alexander Pushkin] Became More And More Melancholy And Finally Became Completely Gloomy. When The Reading Was Over He Uttered In A Voice Full Of Sorrow: "goodness, How Sad Is Our Russia!"

The More Destruction There Is Everywhere, The More It Shows The Activity Of Town Authorities.

He Who Has Talent In Him Must Be Purer In Soul Than Anyone Else. Another Will Be Forgiven Much, But To Him It Will Not Be Forgiven. A Man Who Leaves The House In Bright, Festive Clothes Needs Only One Drop Of Mud Splashed From Under A Wheel, And People All Surround Him, Point Their Fingers At Him, And Talk About His Slovenliness, While The Same People Ignore Many Spots On Other Passers-by Who Are Wearing Everyday Clothes. For On Everyday Clothes The Spots Do Not Show.

Do We Ever Get What We Really Want? Do We Ever Achieve What Our Powers Have Ostensibly Equipped Us For? No: Everything Works By Contraries.