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Be a fairy. My girl, remember who you are. Remember and live! I believe in you.

December 3, 1889

In Russia there are now two unattainable heights: the peak of Elborus and I.

Tea with a cookie is the height of meaninglessness.

How does a climber differ from a philosopher: a philosopher reaches the top and this path becomes accessible to everyone. And each climber has his own peak, although they climb to the same peak. And everyone has their own help with the next conquest of the peak.

Man is the pinnacle of the ape in the ape.

The bottom of life is someone's peak.

My goal is The Brothers Karamazov. To write something like this is unsurpassed - that's the peak, the top. I read The Karamazovs at the age of 14-15 and have re-read it four times since. It was great every time. In my opinion, this is the perfect piece. From 14 to 20 I read only Russian literature. The closest were, of course, the things of Dostoevsky. "Demons" is a very strong work, but "Karamazovs" are unsurpassed.

Words lead to the top of the hill, deeds lead to the top of the mountain.

Man is the pinnacle, but in relation to his capabilities, he is the apogee of weakness.

When you reach the top, you shouldn't rejoice. An even more difficult stage has come, you must stay there.

I am the inspiration that peers through your window at night, painting the melodies of pictures you have not painted, and your laughter that you cannot know. And I am a stupid thought that suddenly overshadows you in broad daylight and fills your heart with extraordinary joy. I am a song that tells about passion and despair, about madness and tenderness. I am the bell of awakened spring. I am the first flowers that light up in your visions, and the rainbow that flares up in previously unknown feelings. I am a long-awaited solar whim and a melting boundless tenderness of a kiss. I am the wind that embraces blooming April and excites with the confidence of generous September. I am the element, the only one whose fury attracts and surprises. I am the top of a glacier above the forests, dazzlingly sparkling, and the copper voices of birds by the winter sea. I am a happy dream fifteen minutes before dawn, born of a distant star. I'm your chance to tell the world what you can't hide. I am a sculpture, changing every moment and forever unique. I am that which lives silently in the heart and makes the hands tender and the eyes moist. I am quiet sadness and sad silence filled with life. I am a riddle that no one can solve. My gentle callsigns fly into space...

In culture, the base is the top.

All the best you do in your life will be done at the end of the day. You obviously don't like the youthful glow of the early light. Traveling in the morning does not appeal to you. But the dying sun - old and yellow and ripe - is yours. You don't like heat, you like shine. And so your last dance will be performed on this peak at the end of the day. And in this dance there will be your story about the struggle, about the battles in which you won and those that you lost, about those joys and the confusion that you experienced when faced with personal strength. Your dance will tell of the secrets and wonders that you have accumulated, and your death will sit here and look at you. Just like today, the dying sun will shine on you, but not burn you. A soft, pleasant wind will blow, and the top of the hill will tremble. And when your dance comes to an end, you will look at the sun, look for the last time, because you will never see it again - neither in reality nor in a dream. And then death will point south. Into the immensity.