Quotes by Mihail Jurjevics Lermontov

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What is the poet without pain? / What is the ocean without storms? / His life is a deliberate torment, / and worries are his friend. He buys celestial rumours, / gathers fame from nothing.

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In nature, opposite causes often produce the same effect: a horse falls from its feet both from standing still and from excessive walking.

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Many quiet rivers begin with roaring waterfalls, but none of them end up flowing into the sea. But this stillness is often a sign of great power, even if hidden: the fullness and depth of feelings and thoughts do not permit angry impulses; the suffering and reveling soul convinces itself that it must be so, and knows that if there were no storms, the unceasing heat of the sun would dry it up.

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On powerful thoughts, like pearls, words are strung.

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Believe me: only there is happiness, where there is trust and love. Friends don't always support us. Joys are forgotten and sorrows remain.

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Empty is the man who is full of himself.

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Respect has limits, love does not.

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Moving away from the conditioning of society and getting closer to nature, we involuntarily become children: everything we have acquired disappears from the soul, and it becomes again as it once was and as it will probably be again someday.

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Nothing happens worse than death, and you can't avoid death.

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Tongue and gold are our dagger and poison.

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Ever since the eternal Heaven has blessed me with the seer's eye, I have read me, the work of sin and evil in the eyes of men.

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Look at the two rocks on the shore that were once one and withstood the fury of the storm; do you see how the two broken lines fit together? There are things that nature creates as one and fate tears them apart.

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Love is like fire: if you don't take care of it and feed it, it will go out.

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Desire, desire... but what's the point if the heart only bleeds, only bleeds, and the years, the most beautiful, run away! To love - but who? What's the point of loving for a while? And it's impossible forever.

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We broke up; yet you continue to enthrone, here, above my heart: Your memory keeps circling my life.

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If your heart is covered, like blowing snow, with grief And the whip of passion, Do not take this angry lover with you to the noise of the indifferent world. Don't humiliate yourself! Can anyone take over Buddha, or is your desperation? Don't lightly expose your spiritual wounds to the prying eyes of people.

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If people thought a little more, they would be convinced that life is not worth worrying about.

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Yours is what my future devises, my salvation too, take it; but never ask about the past; the torment of my soul remains mine!

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The rock of doubt rolls down from my heavy heart: I believe, and I almost cry, and... And so I am relieved!

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I could bless my fate! But how can I bless you now? Now my face is washed by the salts of tears. How pitiful he is, who vomited like this, Whom youth laden with wrinkles, What he gave dear, he immediately took back And left only one thing: corrosive repentance.

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Leave it, don't snoop, you're tired in vain: There is a night, let it have secrets! You can find nothing in Multam That your love will increase. You love - well, let that be enough! And if you love me, don't ever ask, Don't find out how empty, black, stupid my life is!

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I gave you my soul without knowing anything about your infidelity, and you already knew what the secret was... Only I, I didn't know you.

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Now the heart longs to rest, its passion fades away, because it realizes that the other heart is not beating for it.

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I always go forward with more courage when I don't know what awaits me.

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Only earthly luck offers joy, And even though we dream of heaven, In the minutes of farewell it becomes clear: That the earth is our real home.