Despite all the horror, which reigns all around, despite the humiliation of the Russian people and the pain of Russia, how happy I am, that I am Russian and Orthodox.
How much more wonderful the Orthodox service is than the Protestant service.
I was counting money after the lecture. I loathed these crumpled notes terribly. I had no idea I had so much hatred towards them. See more
I imagined the faces of soldiers, workers, women waiting in line to the cashier’s. Everyone has their own lives, their own sorrows. And these crumpled notes - like their existence - are a crime.
Oh, how I fear that as the waves of democracy crash into the shore, they will be mixed with dirt, with mud, with reeds, and instead of a round, deep, whole wave, there will be a grimy little puddle.
A crisis of power again. On the streets, there have been demonstrations, shooting and utter chaos. It is unclear who is marching, where to, and why. Cars rush by, carrying armed soldiers and machine guns. It is unclear what tomorrow will bring. The Provisional Government is impotent. I am not afraid for Russia. See more
I have suddenly sensed that all will be well. Most importantly, before, when things were worse, but life seemed peaceful and fine, we said nothing. Before, we said nothing, even though people in Russia were dying of hunger. Now, when we are under threat of danger, when there are no trams (the main thing, of course is that we have no “conveniences” such as trams etc.) people are worked up.
When you walk with your face turned towards the glowing, rosy sky (to the rising or setting sun), verses are easily composed.
Когда видишь парад или манифестацию, так и кажется, что сверху смотрит чей-то большой (настолько большой, что он нам невидим) глаз, и чей-то голос (настолько громкий, что мы его не слышим) звучит: «Смотри, у как у них (у людей) все организованно: вот эти идут с какими-то значками, эти вооружены, эти наблюдают. Ужасно смешно, правда?» See more
Или: «Нет, не трогай их».
Или же такой голос: «Иногда мне хочется сдунуть их или наступить на них».
«Нет, жалко, зачем!»
What rubbish! And I wanted to love “humanity.” People are so nasty, so nasty. How great it would have been to live among dogs or horses. If you think about it: high sky, fluffy clouds, it has rained recently. A wide country road. On its sides—huts. And in every hut there are dogs. They drink milk, and, like people, eat fried potatoes, puppies are playing on porches, and I go to pick mushrooms with three dogs. See more
God! God! What happiness! And not a single human face around. And there should be no mirror, to not see my own.
Or to live with horses. It does not matter with whom, as long as it is not with a human.
There are two old dogs walking towards us. They are returning from a walk, arm in arm, affectionately wagging their tails. Here is the forest. It is clean and nice here. There are no papers, cigarette buds, cans from canned foods, husks—in other words, all that nastiness and filth that permanently accompanies man.
Here are more dogs. They must be a family: two big, furry ones and a whole pack of tiny, playing, jumping, barking ones. They affectionately sniff at us and walk past, without measuring us with greedy, calculating, piercing, inveterately lying, angry eyes.
In the forest it is cool, smells of pine, and from the dog village you hear barking, muffled by distance. And there are no people, no people, most importantly, there are no people…
Where from? From where does this nastiness come from in people? These faces, faces, these are some faces. Where do these strange dark faces come from? But Russian women are completely different. Same for Russian old women. God! Save Russia!
Geslersovsky Lane. A crowd. Some officer explains something to the crowd. An unpleasant subject in a cap listens rather angrily. There is so much anger and vileness in his face that looking at him, you suddenly realise how insulting it is to consider Christ a member of mankind.
In the past, among the officers there were always a few insolent ones, foppish and rude, but now we are seeing something terrible: they munch on nuts and apples and smirk like street urchins. I feel differently towards officers than towards the “well-fed bourgeoisie ". They should have some “polish” and be properly brought up. Otherwise the result is an abomination.
Who says there are no drunks on the street? Are the soldiers really not drinking? It was most strange to see a drunken officer on the tram, fraternising with the soldiers (who were evidently laughing at him), a scene which I found physically painfully. It made the blood flow in my old veins. See more
It would be better to die (which, sooner or later, will happen anyway) so as not to see such perversions of humanity. It would be better to see nothing, except the sea, the wind, the forests and the fields, and any scene unspoiled by people.
I am tormented when I read about ‘anarchy’, about the atrocities committed by soldiers, but here I am in carriage, where everyone coos about food and dresses of the ‘real bourgeoisie’ (unctuous, buxom and soft). See more
Suddenly, in a flash, I understood with all my heart that I am among these rampaging hordes, these coarse soldiers (whom I condemn, but understand- that is to say I can understand), and not among those fat ‘people’, no longer surrounded by them (whom I cannot ‘condemn’, but also cannot understand). And, besides, I feel a purely physical disgust, looking at them.
There is nothing baser than humankind. It is the most disgusting and horrible of living creatures inhabiting the earth, because humans combine consciousness, of which animals are deprived, with simian nastiness. Really, "nasty monkeys”—one can’t think of a better name for people.
Сегодня из контрольных зал выносили портреты Александра III, Николая II, Алексея. Я встретил эту процессию в Контрольном дворе, когда шел за маслом. Сторожа лениво волочили портреты, мальчишки кричали, кричали... и мне вдруг стало так грустно...
Я всегда ненавидел эти казенные портреты, опошленные участками, казенными залами и т.п. учреждениями. А тут вдруг стало грустно.