Anton Chekhov.

"Chekhov, with an art peculiar to himself, in scattered scenes, in haphazard glimpses into the lives of his characters, in seemingly trivial conversations, has succeeded in so concentrating the atmosphere of the Russia of his day that we feel it in every line we read, oppressive as the mists that hang over a lake at dawn, and, like those mists, made visible to us by the light of an approaching day." Marian Fell.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"Melancholy thoughts haunted me still. Painful as it was to me, yet I remember I tried as it were to make my thoughts still gloomier and more melancholy. You know people who are vain and not very clever have moments when the consciousness that they are miserable affords them positive satisfaction, and they even coquet with their misery for their own entertainment."

Anton Chekhov, A Wayfarer's Story.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"And he realized that there were real people living there who, like people everywhere else, felt insulted, suffered, wept, and cried for help. The feeling of oppressive hate and disgust gave way to an acute feeling of pity and anger against the aggressor. He rushed into the room where there was weeping. Across rows of bottles on a marble-top table he distinguished a suffering face, wet with tears, stretched out his hands towards that face, took a step towards the table, but at once drew back in horror. The weeping girl was drunk."

Anton Chekhov,A Nervous Breakdown.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"When this melancholy fit is on me I begin to dislike you,and at such times I must escape from you. In short, I simply have to leave this house. Now."

Anton Chekhov,Ivanoff.

[shadowkittenxo]

”..essentially, if you thought of it, everything was beautiful in this world, everything except for what we ourselves think and do when we forget the higher goals of being and our human dignity.”

“The Lady with the Little Dog” - Anton Chekhov (via deartaylorr)

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"But little by little I forgot myself, and gave myself up entirely to the consciousness of beauty. I felt this beauty rather strangely. It was not desire, nor ecstacy, nor enjoyment but a painful though pleasant sadness. It was a sadness vague and undefined as a dream."

Anton Chekhov,Beauties.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"To fear love is to fear life, and those whose fear life are already three parts dead..."

Anton Chekhov.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"Faith is an aptitude of the spirit. It is, in fact, a talent: you must be born with it."

Anton Chekhov.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"I felt my eyes being opened; I saw that the worship of the art I had held so sacred was a delusion and an empty dream; that I was a slave, a fool, the plaything of the idleness of strangers."

Anton Chekhov,The Swan Song.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

[and-iquote-blog]

[femslash]

Why do I hear a note of sadness that wrings my heart in this cry of a pure soul? If at any time you should have need of my life, come and take it.

The Seagull (Act III), Anton Chekhov (via parlais)

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"I always thought famous people were distant and proud; I thought they despised the common crowd which exalts riches and birth, and avenged themselves on it by dazzling it with the inextinguishable honour and glory of their fame. But here I see them weeping and playing cards and flying into passions like everybody else."

Anton Chekhov,The Sea-gull.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"I feel as if I had been in the world a thousand years, and I trail my life behind me like an endless scarf. Often I have no desire to live at all."

Anton Chekhov,The Sea-gull.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"So far only one incontestable truth has been uttered about love: ‘This is a great mystery.’ Everything else that has been written or said about love is not a conclusion, but only a statement of questions which have remained unanswered."

Anton Chekhov,About Love.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"And at once he caught himself in that smile, which was so out of keeping with his gloomy mood. Where did it come from if his whole heart was full of vexation and misery? And he thought nature itself had given man this capacity for lying, that even in difficult moments of spiritual strain he might be able to hide the secrets of his nest as the fox and the wild duck do. Every family has its joys and its horrors, but however great they may be, it’s hard for an outsider’s eye to see them; they are a secret."

Anton Chekhov,Difficult People.

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

"He was evidently struggling with the feeling that was mastering him. A deathlike silence followed."

Anton Chekhov,Difficult People.

[thecellardoorislocked-blog-blog]

[fuckyeahantonchekhov-blog]

russiaslostrevolutionary:

Anton Chekhov