He could not be mistaken. There were no other eyes like those in the world. There was only one creature in the world who could concentrate for him all the brightness and meaning of life. It was she. It was Kitty.
Just think! This whole world of ours is only a speck of mildew sprung up on a tiny planet, yet we think we can have something great - thoughts,, actions! They are all but grains of sand
There was no solution, save that universal solution which life gives to all questions, even the most complex and insolvable: One must live in the needs of the day--that is, forget oneself.
Everything depends on upbringing.
Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself.
This history of culture will explain to us the motives, the conditions of life, and the thought of the writer or reformer.
All the girls in the world were divided into two classes: one class included all the girls in the world except her, and they had all the usual human feelings and were very ordinary girls; while the other class -herself alone- had no weaknesses and was superior to all humanity.
He went down trying not to look long at her, as though she were the sun, but he saw her, as one sees the sun, without looking.
Rummaging in our souls, we often dig up something that ought to have lain there unnoticed.
Without the support from religion--remember, we talked about it--no father, using only his own resources, would be able to bring up a child.
How can one be well...when one suffers morally?
Pierre was one of those people who are strong only when they feel themselves perfectly pure.
When a man sees a dying animal, horror comes over him: that which he himself is, his essence, is obviously being annihilated before his eyes--is ceasing to be. But when the dying one is a person, and a beloved person, then, besides a sense of horror at the annihilation of life, there is a feeling of severance and a spiritual wound which, like a physical wound, sometimes kills and sometimes heals, but always hurts and fears any external, irritating touch.
But after all, while she was in the house, I kept myself in hand. And the worst of it all is that she's already… it seems as if ill-luck would have it so! Oh, oh! But what, what is to be done?
I'm like a starving man who has been given food. Maybe he's cold, and his clothes are torn, and he's ashamed, but he's not unhappy.
The Kingdom of God is Within You,
But all these hints at foreseeing what actually did happen on the French as well as on the Russian side are only conspicuous now because the event has justified them. If the event had not come to pass, these hints would have been forgotten, as thousands and millions of suggestions and supposition are now forgotten that were current at the period, but have been shown by time to be unfounded and so have been consigned to oblivion.
It seems as though mankind has forgotten the laws of its divine Saviour, Who preached love and forgiveness of injuries-and that men attribute the greatest merit to skill in killing one another.
The old with the old, the young with the young, the hostess by the tea table, on which there were exactly the same cakes in a silver basket as the Panins had at their soiree - everything was exactly the same as with everyone else.
He felt that all his hitherto dissipated and dispersed forces were gathered and directed with terrible energy towards one blissful goal.
Levin scowled. The humiliation of his rejection stung him to the heart, as though it were a fresh wound he had only just received. But he was at home, and at home the very walls are a support.
These joys were so trifling as to be as imperceptible as grains of gold among the sand, and in moments of depression she saw nothing but the sand; yet there were brighter moments when she felt nothing but joy, saw nothing but the gold.
Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible.
Man lives consciously for himself, but serves as an unconscious instrument for the achievement of historical, universally human goals.
Those whom God wishes to destroy he drives mad.
And not only the pride of intellect, but the stupidity of intellect. And, above all, the dishonesty, yes, the dishonesty of intellect. Yes, indeed, the dishonesty and trickery of intellect.
I ... having filled my life with the spiritual blessings Christianity gave me, brimful of these blessings and living by them, I, like a child, not understanding them, destroy them -- that is, I wish to destroy that by which I live.
She had no need to ask why he had come. She knew as certainly as if he had told her that he was here to be where she was.
A battle is won by him who is firmly resolved to win it.
How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what?... All will end in death, all!
More Leo Tolstoy Quotations (Based on Topics)
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