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Fyodor Dostoevsky

White Nights

  • Khushi Kapoorje citiraoпрошле године
    Have you lived or not? Look, one says to oneself, look how cold the world is growing
  • mariavictoriaje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    “I expected that he would come and see us more and more often after that, but it wasn’t so at all. He almost entirely gave up coming. He would just come in about once a month, and then only to invite us to the theatre. We went twice again. Only I wasn’t at all pleased with that; I saw that he was simply sorry for me because I was so hardly treated by grandmother, and that was all. As time went on, I grew more and more restless, I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t work; sometimes I laughed and did something to annoy grandmother, at another

    time I would cry.
  • Khushi Kapoorje citiraoпрошле године
    In two minutes you have made me happy for ever.
  • Khushi Kapoorje citiraoпрошле године
    . . Good-bye, thank you! . . . ”

    “Surely . . . surely you don’t mean . . . that we shall never see each other again? . . . Surely this is not to be the end?”

    “You see,” said the girl, laughing, “at first you only wanted two words, and now. . . . However, I won’t say anything . . . perhaps we shall meet. . . . ”
  • Khushi Kapoorje citiraoпрошле године
    You . . . perhaps it was my fancy
  • itorroellaperezje citiraoјуче
    don’t know how to be silent when my heart is speaking.
  • Aleje citiraoпре 7 дана
    I once shed tears over memories ...
  • Aleje citiraoпре 7 дана
    I am a dreamer; I have so little real life that I look upon such moments as this now, as so rare, that I cannot help going over such moments again in my dreams. I shall be dreaming of you all night, a whole week, a whole year.
  • Arooma Zehraje citiralaпре 9 дана
    because I love you so at this moment, because I am worthy of your love, because I will deserve it . . . my dear! Next week I am to be married to him.

    Alexa play "you're so vain" by Carly Simon

  • Arooma Zehraje citiralaпре 9 дана
    only I would love you, I would love you so, that even if you still loved him, even if you went on loving the man I don’t know, you would never feel that my love was a burden to you. You would only feel every minute that at your side was beating a grateful, grateful heart, a warm heart ready for your sake. . . . Oh Nastenka, Nastenka! What have you done to me?”
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