Lying is the same as alcoholism. Liars prevaricate even on their deathbeds.

Every person lives his real, most interesting life under the cover of secrecy.

People are far more sincere and good-humored at speeding their parting guests than on meeting them.

You're an intelligent educated man. You can see it's not thieves or fires that destroy the world; it's hatred, hostility, all this petty squabbling...Shouldn't you stop complaining and try to make peace?

Any idiot can face a crisis -- it's day to day living that wears you out.

The unhappy are egotistical, base, unjust, cruel, and even less capable of understanding one another than are idiots. Unhappinessdoes not unite people, but separates them.

My holy of holies is the human body.

Be sure not to discuss your hero's state of mind. Make it clear from his actions.

(Letter to Alexander Chekhov, May 10, 1886).

He was a rationalist, but he had to confess that he liked the ringing of church bells.

Do you remember you shot a seagull? A man came by chance, saw it and destroyed it, just to pass the time.

I thought famous people were proud, unapproachable, that they despised the crowd, and by their fame and the glory of their name, as it were, revenged themselves on the vulgar herd for putting rank and wealth above everything. But here they cry and fish, play cards, laugh and get cross like everyone else!

Doctor Andrey Yefimitch, of whom we shall have more to say hereafter, prescribed cold compresses on his head and laurel drops, shook his head, and went away, telling the landlady he should not come again, as one should not interfere with people who are going out of their minds.

I am not a liberal, not a conservative, not a believer in gradual progress, not a monk. I should like to be a free artist and nothing more.

We old bachelors smell like dogs, do we? So be it. But I must take issue with your claim that doctors who treat female illnesses are womanizers and cynics at heart. Gynecologists deal with savage prose the likes of which you have never dreamed of.

We just philosophize, complain of boredom, or drink vodka. It's so clear, you see, that if we're to begin living in the present, we must first of all redeem our past and then be done with it forever. And the only way we can redeem our past is by suffering and by giving ourselves over to exceptional labor, to steadfast and endless labor.

Don't forget either, you unhappy man, that voluntary confinement is a great deal harder to bear than compulsory.

Everything should be first-rate in a person, his face, clothes, soul and thoughts.

The more refined one is, the more unhappy.

To judge between good or bad, between successful and unsuccessful would take the eye of a God.

And it is the way with us that you may express disapproval of the sun or the moon, or anything you like, but God preserve you from touching the Liberals! Heaven forbid!