Book: Anna Karenina. Page 5

It was a pleasure began to think about how he would suffer, repent and love her memory when it is too late.

It is felt in the air, it felt heart.

The only salvation from the people to conceal from them his wounds.

- O moralist! But you must understand, there are two women: one insists only on her rights, and those rights are your love, which you can't give her; while the other sacrifices everything for you and demands nothing. What do you do? What to do? There was a terrible drama.
- If you want my confession about this, I'll tell you what I don't believe there was drama. And here's why. In my mind, love... both love, which you remember Plato defines in his Banquet, both of love serve as a touchstone for people. Some people only understand one other. And those who only know neoplatonically love's in vain to talk of tragedy. In such love there can be no drama. "I'm much obliged for the gratification, my humble respects", and that the whole drama. And in Platonic love there can be no tragedy, because in that love all is clear and pure, because...

And I know why you press me to the ball. You expect a lot from this ball, and you want to see all there was, all participated.
- How do you know? Yes.
- Oh! what a happy time, ' continued Anna. - Remember and know that blue mist, like that on the mountains in Switzerland. This mist that covers everything in that blissful time when that's over childhood, and of this vast circle, happy, is way narrower and narrower, and fun and creepy to enter this Suite, although it seems bright and beautiful... Who hasn't been through it?

- I have tried everything, he thought - only one thing - not to pay attention.

But I have nothing, know nothing and cannot know how what I said along with everyone.

So we invented a Cup to put the raspberries and cook for her on the candle and the milk, pouring a fountain right in the mouth each other. It's fun and new, and nothing worse than drinking from cups. Isn't that what we do, did I mind finding the value of the forces of nature and the meaning of human life?

I discovered nothing. I only learned what I already knew.

When Levin thought what he was and for what he lives, he found no answer and fell into despair; but when he stopped asking himself about it, he seemed to know what he is and definitely acted and lived.

Without knowing what the hell I am and why I'm here, not to live. And I know I can't do it, therefore it is impossible to live.

Then, given a man reason to get rid of what was bothering him.

Aren't we all thrown into the light and then only to hate each other, and then torture yourself and others?

He thought he knew me. And he knows me as little as anyone else in the world knows me. I don't know. I know my appetites, as the French say.