Book: Three sisters

The third day the conversation in the club, say, Shakespeare, Voltaire... I haven't read, not read, and on the face of his he pretended to read. And others too, like me. Vulgarity! Meanness!

The time will come, everyone will know what is it all for what all this suffering, will be no mysteries and yet we must live... we must work, just work!

Everything has its end. And so we parted.

Time will pass and we will leave forever, will forget us, forget our faces, voices and how much we had, but our sufferings will pass into joy for those who will live after us.

Where? Where did everyone go? Where is it? Oh, my God, my God! I forgot, I forgot... I messed up in the head... I don't remember how Italian for window or ceiling... forget Everything, every day forgetting, but life goes away and never coming back, never, never go to Moscow... I see that is not going away soon.

Maybe we only think we exist but actually we don't. I don't know anything, nobody knows anything.

I care about insulting rudeness, I suffer when I see that the person is thin enough, soft enough, my dear.

Well? If you do not give tea, let's philosophize, at least.

If, you know, hard work to improve education, and to education, hard work...

I don't need anything, but I resent the injustice.

Maybe I'm not human, and only now is pretend that I have hands and legs and head; perhaps I don't exist at all, but it just seems to me that I walk, eat, sleep. I would not exist!

I think the person should be a believer or have to look for faith, otherwise his life is empty, empty...

Russian man in the highest degree characteristic of the sublime way of thinking, but tell me, why in life it enough so low? Why?

I'm not loved even once in life. Oh, I so dreamed of love, I dream for a long time, days and nights, but my soul is like an expensive piano which is locked and the key is lost.