I Shall Laugh My Bitter Laugh.

Countless Are, As The Sand In The Sea, The Deep Desires Of Men, And None Resembles The Other, And All Of Them, Whether Shameful, Or Great, In The Beginning Are Obedient, But Later Become Terrible Masters Over Him.

How Much Savage Coarseness Is Concealed In Refined, Cultivated Manners.

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

There Are Certain Words Which Are Nearer And Dearer To A Man Than Any Others.

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!"