I sought happiness, and I shall find—perhaps death. It seemsit was to…

In your dark workshop, let the sun shine on other men! Even our dull life has its own pride, its own happiness!

Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. "I don't adopt any one's ideas; I have my own."

"Naturally," observed Nikolai Petrovich, "you were born here, so everything is bound to strike you with a special —""Really, Daddy, it makes absolutely no difference where a person is born.""Still —""No, it makes no difference at all."

Death is an old joke, but it comes like new to everyone.

"For myself, I detest the fellow, and think him a charlatan. I am certain that, in spite of his frogs, he is making no real progress in physics."

Each of us is guilty by the fact that he lives.