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It Is Well-known That There Are Many Faces In The World Over The Finishing Of Which Nature Did Not Take Much Trouble, Did Not Employ Any Fine Tools Such As Files, Gimlets, And So On, But Simply Hacked Them Out With Round Strokes: One Chop-a Nose Appears; Another Chop-lips Appear; Eyes Are Scooped Out With A Big Drill; And She Lets It Go Into The World Rough-hewn, Saing: "alive!

-Nikolai Gogol

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It Is Well-known That

Nikolai Gogol

...

It Is Well-known That There Are Many Faces In The World Over The Finishing Of Which Nature Did Not Take Much Trouble, Did Not Employ Any Fine Tools Such As Files, Gimlets, And So On, But Simply Hacked Them Out With Round Strokes: One Chop-a Nose Appears; Another Chop-lips Appear; Eyes Are Scooped Out With A Big Drill; And She Lets It Go Into The World Rough-hewn, Saing: "alive!

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But Youth Has A Future. The Closer He Came To Graduation, The More His Heart Beat. He Said To Himself: “this Is Still Not Life, This Is Only The Preparation For Life.

Ah, Steeds, Steeds, What Steeds! Has The Whirlwind A Home In Your Manes? Is There A Sensitive Ear, Alert As A Flame, In Your Every Fiber? Hearing The Familiar Song From Above, All In One Accord You Strain Your Bronze Chests And, Hooves Barely Touching The Ground, Turn Into Straight Lines Cleaving The Air, And All Inspired By God It Rushes On!

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.

What Are You Laughing At? You Are Laughing At Yourself.

Laugh At Yourself

At The End Of The Table, The Secretary Was Reading The Decision In Some Case, But In Such A Mournful And Monotonous Voice, That The Condemned Man Himself Would Have Fallen Asleep While Listening To It. The Judge, No Doubt, Would Have Been The First Of All To Do So, Had He Not Entered Into An Engrossing Conversation While It Was Going On.

Go Along, Go Along Quickly, And Set All You Have On The Table For Us. We Don't Want Doughnuts, Honey Buns, Poppy Cakes, And Other Dainties; Bring Us A Whole Sheep, Serve A Goat And Forty-year Old Mead! And Plenty Of Vodka, Not Vodka With All Sorts Of Fancies, Not With Raisins And Flavorings, But Pure Foaming Vodka, That Hisses And Bubbles Like Mad.

The Longer And More Carefully We Look At A Funny Story, The Sadder It Becomes.

Everywhere Across Whatever Sorrows Of Which Our Life Is Woven, Some Radiant Joy Will Gaily Flash Past.

The Experience Of Ages Has Shown That A Man Who Works On The Land Is Purer, Nobler, Higher, And More Moral... Agriculture Should Be At The Basis Of Everything. That's My Idea.

Always Think Of What Is Useful And Not What Is Beautiful. Beauty Will Come Of Its Own Accord.

Countless As The Sands Of Sea Are Human Passions, And Not All Of Them Are Alike, And All Of Them, Base And Noble Alike, Are At First Obedient To Man And Only Later On Become His Terrible Masters.

You Can't Imagine How Stupid The Whole World Has Grown Nowadays.

There Are People Who Exist In This World Not Like Entities But Like The Speckles Or Spots On Something.

I Am Fated To Journey Hand In Hand With My Strange Heroes And To Survey The Surging Immensity Of Life, To Survey It Through The Laughter That All Can See And Through The Tears Unseen And Unknown By Anyone.

Of Course, Alexander The Great Was A Hero, But Why Smash The Chairs?

Whatever You May Say, The Body Depends On The Soul.

As Countless As Grains Of Sand By The Sea Are Human Passions, And They All Differ; All Of Them, Vile Or Lofty, Begin By Being Under A Man's Control And Then Become His Terrible Masters. Blessed Is He Who Has Chosen The Most Lofty Of Passions: His Immeasurable Bliss Grows And Multiplies Tenfold With Every Hour And Minute, And He Penetrates Deeper And Deeper Into The Infinite Paradise Of His Soul.

Do We Ever Get What We Really Want? Do We Ever Achieve What Our Powers Have Ostensibly Equipped Us For? No: Everything Works By Contraries.

There Are Occasions When A Woman, No Matter How Weak And Impotent In Character She May Be In Comparison With A Man, Will Yet Suddenly Become Not Only Harder Than Any Man, But Even Harder Than Anything And Everything In The World.

Man Is Such A Wondrous Being That It Is Never Possible To Count Up All His Merits At Once. The More You Study Him, The More New Particulars Appear, And Their Description Would Be Endless.

Like All Of Us Sinners, General Betrishchev Was Endowed With Many Virtues And Many Defects. Both The One And The Other Were Scattered Through Him In A Sort Of Picturesque Disorder. Self-sacrifice, Magnanimity In Decisive Moments, Courage, Intelligence--and With All That, A Generous Mixture Of Self-love, Ambition, Vanity, Petty Personal Ticklishness, And A Good Many Of Those Things Which A Man Simply Cannot Do Without.

He Who Has Talent In Him Must Be Purer In Soul Than Anyone Else. Another Will Be Forgiven Much, But To Him It Will Not Be Forgiven. A Man Who Leaves The House In Bright, Festive Clothes Needs Only One Drop Of Mud Splashed From Under A Wheel, And People All Surround Him, Point Their Fingers At Him, And Talk About His Slovenliness, While The Same People Ignore Many Spots On Other Passers-by Who Are Wearing Everyday Clothes. For On Everyday Clothes The Spots Do Not Show.

It Is Well-known That There Are Many Faces In The World Over The Finishing Of Which Nature Did Not Take Much Trouble, Did Not Employ Any Fine Tools Such As Files, Gimlets, And So On, But Simply Hacked Them Out With Round Strokes: One Chop-a Nose Appears; Another Chop-lips Appear; Eyes Are Scooped Out With A Big Drill; And She Lets It Go Into The World Rough-hewn, Saing: "alive!

Gambling Is The Great Leveller. All Men Are Equal- At Cards.

A Time Of Famine And Poverty Will Come And The People As A Whole As Well As Every Individual In It Will Suffer.

Also, Though Not Over-elderly, He Was Not Over-young.

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

I Shall Laugh My Bitter Laugh.

As You Pass From The Tender Years Of Youth Into Harsh And Embittered Manhood, Make Sure You Take With You On Your Journey All The Human Emotions! Don't Leave Them On The Road, For You Will Not Pick Them Up Afterwards!

Don't Blame The Mirror If Your Face Is Faulty.

...and Sank Into The Profound Slumber Which Comes Only To Such Fortunate Folk As Are Troubled Neither With Mosquitoes Nor Fleas Nor Excessive Activity Of Brain.

They're Thinking Of Turning The Peasant Into An Educated Man. Why, First Of All They Should Make Him A Good And Prosperous Farmer And Then He'll Learn All That Is Necessary For Him To Know.

Two Turtle Doves Will Show Thee Where My Cold Ashes Lie And Sadly Murmuring Tell Thee How In Tears I Did Die

What Is Stronger In Us — Passion Or Habit? Or Are All The Violent Impulses, All The Whirl Of Our Desires And Turbulent Passions, Only The Consequence Of Our Ardent Age, And Is It Only Through Youth That They Seem Deep And Shattering?

The Current Generation Now Sees Everything Clearly, It Marvels At The Errors, It Laughs At The Folly Of Its Ancestors, Not Seeing That This Chronicle Is All Overscored By Divine Fire, That Every Letter Of It Cries Out, That From Everywhere The Piercing Finger Is Pointed At It, At This Current Generation; But The Current Generation Laughs And Presumptuously, Proudly Begins A Series Of New Errors, At Which Their Descendants Will Also Laugh Afterwards.

However Stupid A Fools Words May Be, They Are Sometimes Enough To Confound An Intelligent Man.

They Don’t Listen To Me, They Don’t Hear Me, They Don’t See Me.

Perfect Nonsense Goes On In The World. Sometimes There Is No Plausibility At All

I Saw That I'd Get Nowhere On The Straight Path, And That To Go Crookedly Was Straighter.

The More Debris There Is The More It Will Show The Governor's Activity.

I Am Very Fond Of The Modest Manner Of Life Of Those Solitary Owners Of Remote Villages, Who In Little Russia Are Commonly Called "old-fashioned," Who Are Like Tumbledown Picturesque Little Houses, Delightful In Their Simplicity And Complete Unlikeness To The New Smooth Buildings Whose Walls Have Not Yet Been Discolored By The Rain, Whose Roofs Are Not Yet Covered With Green Lichen, And Whose Porch Does Not Display Its Bricks Through The Peeling Stucco.

There Are Passions That It Is Not For Man To Choose.

As It Is So Strangely Ordained In This World, What Is Amusing Will Turn Into Being Gloomy, If You Stand Too Long Before It, And Then God Knows What Ideas May Not Stray Into The Mind... Why Is It That Even In Moments Of Unthinking, Careless Gaiety A Different And Strange Mood Comes Upon One?

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!"

It's The Most Righteous, Which Of Course Is Not The Same Thing As The Most Profitable.

Let Me Warn You, If You Start Chasing After Views, You'll Be Left Without Bread And Without Views.

The Lord Grant We May All Be Tillers Of The Soil.

For Public Opinion Does Not Admit That Lofty Rapturous Laughter Is Worthy To Stand Beside Lofty Lyrical Emotion And That There Isall The Difference In The World Between It And The Antics Of A Clown At A Fair.

I Am Who I Am And That's Who I Am

We Ought To Thank God For That. Yes, The Man Who Tills The Land Is More Worthy Of Respect Than Any.

Everything Resembles The Truth, Everything Can Happen To A Man.

Nothing Could Be More Pleasant Than To Live In Solitude, Enjoy The Spectacle Of Nature, And Occasionally Read Some Book.

Steeds, Steeds, What Steeds! Has The Whirlwind A Home In Your Manes?

Keep Not Money, But Keep Good People's Company.

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

I Tell Everyone Very Plainly That I Take Bribes, But What Kind Of Bribes? Why, Greyhound Puppies. That's A Totally Different Matter.

But Wise Is The Man Who Disdains No Character, But With Searching Glance Explores Him To The Root And Cause Of All.

In The End Dreams Became His Life, And His Whole Life Thereafter Took A Strange Turn: One Might Say He Slept While Waking And Watched While Asleep.

It's Not My Job To Preach A Sermon. Art Is Anyhow A Homily. My Job Is To Speak In Living Images, Not In Arguments. I Must Exhibit Life Full-face, Not Discuss Life.

It Is No Use To Blame The Looking Glass If Your Face Is Awry.

There Exists A Kind Of Laughter Which Is Worthy To Be Ranked With The Higher Lyric Emotions And Is Infinitely Different From The Twitching Of A Mean Merrymaker.

But There Is Nothing Enduring In The World, And Therefore Even Joy In The Second Minute Is Already Not As Acute As In The First; In The Third Minute It Becomes Still Weaker And Finally Merges Unnoticeably With The Usual Condition Of The Soul, As A Circle On The Water, Caused By The Fall Of A Pebble, Finally Merges With The Smooth Surface.

[f]or Contemporary Judgment Does Not Recognize That Much Depth Of Soul Is Needed To Light Up The Picture Drawn From Contemptible Life And Elevate It Into A Pearl Of Creation.

We Have The Marvelous Gift Of Making Everything Insignificant.

This Was Not The Old Chichikov. This Was Some Wreckage Of The Old Chichikov. The Inner State Of His Soul Might Be Compared To A Demolished Building, Which Has Been Demolished So That From It A New One Could Be Built; But The New One Has Not Been Started Yet, Because The Infinitive Plan Has Not Yet Come From The Architect And The Workers Are Left In Perplexity.

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

A Word Aptly Uttered Or Written Cannot Be Cut Away By An Axe.

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