Status Updates From Le notti bianche

Zuthe most deeply touching story

“it begins to seem to me at such times that I have lost all touch, all instinct for the actual, the real…”

“…one deceives oneself and unconsciously believes that real passion is stirring one’s soul; one unconsciously believes that there is something living, tangible in one’s immaterial dreams!”

“… he has everything, because he is satiated, because he is the artist of his own life, and creates for himself every hour to suit his latest whim.”

‘I was thinking about you,’ she said to me after a minute’s silence, ‘you’re so kind that I would have to be made of stone not to feel it. Do you know what just occurred to me? I was comparing the two of you. Why isn’t he – you? Why isn’t he like you? He’s not as good as you, even though I love him more than you.’

‘Do you know why I’m so happy?’ she said, ‘so happy to look at you? Why I love you so today?’

‘Well?’ I asked, and my heart began to tremble.

‘I love you because you didn’t fall in love with me. Why, someone else in your place would have started bothering me, pestering me, sighing, falling ill, but you’re such a dear!’

There is something inexpressibly touching in nature round Petersburg, when at the approach of spring she puts forth all her might, all the powers bestowed on her by Heaven, when she breaks into leaf, decks herself out and spangles herself with flowers. . . .