See, we were never about butterflies. We’ve always been about burning stars. All about us is unearthly and radiant. ― Anna Akhmatova, Anna Of All The Russias: A Life Of Anna Akhmatova by Elaine Feinstein. (Vintage, April 10, 2007) Originally published 2005.
I simply love that tinge of Botticellian pink, that raw rose about the lips, those wet, matted eyelashes… — Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita. (Olympia Press 1955)
I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing… Continue reading Fyodor Dostoevsky
Sprawling after love: “Look, the ceiling is all covered with stars!” “And maybe on one of them there is life . . .” — Vera Pavlova, “30,” If There is Something to Desire: One Hundred Poems. (Knopf; 1St Edition edition, January 19, 2010)
It was a wonderful night, such a night as is only possible when we are young, dear reader. ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, from “White Nights,” White Nights and Other Stories: The Novels of Fyodor Dostoevsky, Volume X. (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, November 16, 2016) Story originally published 1848.
I carry Sorrow, a grey bird, sluggish, in my chest. — Osip Mandelstam, from “Light Sheds it’s Meager Ray,” The Selected Poems. (NYRB Classics; 1st edition, August 31, 2004) Originally published 1972.
How is your life with an ordinary woman? without the god inside her? — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “An Attempt at Jealousy,” Selected Poems. (Penguin Classics; 4th Revised ed. Edition, January 1, 1994) Originally published 1971.