Whether I end up in Paris or in Bezhentsk, this winter is shaping up to be equally unpleasant. The only place where I was able to breathe easy was Petersburg. But, since they started the monthly tradition of covering the pavements in the blood of citizens, it’s lost some of it’s charm in my eyes.
It’s nice here. It is so beautiful that you feel ashamed when thinking about what life must be like with you all now.
Letter to the Foreign Ministry
"Though, with the exception of the extremists, all parties were agreed not to cause the Government embarrassments, the conference, so far from securing national unity, has rather accentuated the differences existing between the different parties, and we shall probably be faced with another crisis before many weeks are passed."
Those who attended the so-called State Conference at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre in August 1917 have not, of course, forgotten Kerensky's speeches – the first, which opened the conference, and the last, which closed it. The effect he exerted on those who were seeing or hearing him for the first time was a depressing and repellent one. See more
I was reading Vernon Lee and thinking about Naples, Capri, and recalled Florence. I leant out of the window. In the garden darkened by the rain, a magpie with clawing talons came over the fence, smiled at me amicably and cordially shook his tail. It’s like our souls are one!
Dear Anichka, you must no doubt be angry that I’ve not written you for so long, but I was purposely waiting for my fate to be decided. Now it has been. See more
I went to my native 29th regiment, 8th division, who were celebrating their regimental holiday. On the tables stood full flasks of wine and vodka. See more
It was a nice, warm day. Now every morning I drink tea together with the children. We spent an hour in the so-called, garden and the larger part of the day on the balcony, which is warm from the sun. Until tea I puttered around in the garden. The children played on the swings.