[Footnote 1: Among Chekhov's papers the following monologue was found,
written in his own hand:
_Solomon_ (alone): Oh! how dark is life! No night, when I was a child,
so terrified me by its darkness as does my invisible existence. Lord,
to David my father thou gavest only the gift of harmonizing words and
sounds, to sing and praise thee on strings, to lament sweetly, to make
people weep or admire beauty; but why hast thou given me a meditative,
sleepless, hungry mind? Like an insect born of the dust, I hide in
darkness; and in fear and despair, all shaking and shivering, I see
and hear in everything an invisible mystery. Why this morning? Why
does the sun come out from behind the temple and gild the palm tree?
Why this beauty of women? Where does the bird hurry, what is the
meaning of its flight, if it and its young and the place to which it
hastens will, like myself, turn to dust? It were better I had never
been born or were a stone, to which God has given neither eyes
nor thoughts. In order to tire out my body by nightfall, all day
yesterday, like a mere workman I carried marble to the temple; but
now the night has come and I cannot sleep ... I'll go and lie down.
Phorses told me that if one imagines a flock of sheep running and
fixes one's attention upon it, the mind gets confused and one falls
asleep, I'll do it ...(exit).]
* * * * *
Ordinary hypocrites pretend to be doves; political and literary
hypocrites pretend to be eagles. But don't be disconcerted by their
aquiline appearance. They are not eagles, but rats or dogs.
* * * * *
Those who are more stupid and more dirty than we are called the
people. The administration classifies the population into taxpayers
and non-taxpayers. But neither classification will do; we are all the
people and all the best we are doing is the people's work.
* * * * *
If the Prince of Monaco has a roulette table, surely convicts may play
at cards.
* * * * *
Iv. (Chekhov's brother Ivan) could philosophize about love, but he
could not love.
* * * * *
_Aliosha_: "My mind, mother, is weakened by illness and I am now like
a child: now I pray to God, now I cry, now I am happy."
* * * * *
Why did Hamlet trouble about ghosts after death, when life itself is
haunted by ghosts so much more terrible?
* * * * *
_Daughter_: "Felt boots are not the correct thing."
_Father_: "Yes they are clumsy, I'll have to get leather ones." The
father fell ill and his deportation to Siberia was postponed.
_Daughter_: "You are not at all ill, father. Look, you have your coat
and boots on...."
_Father_: "I long to be exiled to Siberia. One could sit somewhere by
the Yenissey or Obi river and fish, and on the ferry there would be
nice little convicts, emigrants.... Here I hate everything: this lilac
tree in front of the window, these gravel paths...."
* * * * *
A bedroom. The light of the moon shines so brightly through the window
that even the buttons on his night shirt are visible.
* * * * *
A nice man would feel ashamed even before a dog....
* * * * *
A certain Councillor of State, looking at a beautiful landscape, said:
"What a marvelous function of nature!" From the note-book of an old
dog: "People don't eat slops and bones which the cooks throw away.
Fools!"
* * * * *
He had nothing in his soul except recollections of his schooldays.
* * * * *
The French say: "Laid comme un chenille"--as ugly as a caterpillar.
* * * * *
People are bachelors or old maids because they rouse no interest, not
even a physical one.
* * * * *
The children growing up talked at meals about religion and laughed
at fasts, monks, etc. The old mother at first lost her temper, then,
evidently getting used to it, only smiled, but at last she told
the children that they had convinced her, that she is now of their
opinion. The children felt awkward and could not imagine what their
old mother would do without her religion.
* * * * *
There is no national science, just as there is no national
multiplication table; what is national is no longer science.
* * * * *
The dog walked in the street and was ashamed of its crooked legs.
* * * * *
The difference between man and woman: a woman, as she grows old gives
herself up more and more to female affairs; a man, as he grows old,
withdraws himself more and more from female affairs.
* * * * *
That sudden and ill-timed love-affair may be compared to this: you
take boys somewhere for a walk; the walk is jolly and interesting--and
suddenly one of them gorges himself with oil paint.
* * * * *
The character in the play says to every one: "You've got worms." He
cures his daughter of the worms, and she turns yellow.
* * * * *
A scholar, without talent, a blockhead, worked for twenty-four years
and produced nothing good, gave the world only scholars as untalented
and as narrow-minded as himself. At night he secretly bound
books--that was his true vocation: in that he was an artist and felt
the joy of it. There came to him a bookbinder, who loved learning and
studied secretly at night.
* * * * *
But perhaps the universe is suspended on the tooth of some monster.
* * * * *
Keep to the right, you of the yellow eye!
* * * * *
Do you want to eat? No, on the contrary.
* * * * *
A pregnant woman with short arms and a long neck, like a kangaroo.
* * * * *
How pleasant it is to respect people! When I see books, I am not
concerned with how the authors loved or played cards; I see only their
marvelous works.
* * * * *
To demand that the woman one loves should be pure is egotistical: to
look for that in a woman which I have not got myself is not love, but
worship, since one ought to love one's equals.
* * * * *
The so-called pure childlike joy of life is animal joy.
* * * * *
I cannot bear the crying of children, but when my child cries, I don't
hear.
* * * * *
A schoolboy treats a lady to dinner in a restaurant. He has only one
rouble, twenty kopecks. The bill comes to four roubles thirty kopecks.
He has no money and begins to cry. The proprietor boxes his ears. He
was talking to the lady about Abyssinia.
* * * * *
A man, who, to judge from his appearance, loves nothing but sausages
and sauerkraut.
* * * * *
We judge human activities by their goal; that activity is great of
which the goal is great.
* * * * *
You drive on the Nevski, you look to the left on the Haymarket;
the clouds are the color of smoke, the ball of the setting sun
purple--Dante's hell!
* * * * *
His income is twenty-five to fifty thousand, and yet out of poverty he
shoots himself.
* * * * *
Terrible poverty, desperate situation. The mother a widow, her
daughter a very ugly girl. At last the mother takes courage and
advises the daughter to go on the streets. She herself when young went
on the streets without her husband's knowledge in order to get money
for her dresses; she has some experience. She instructs her daughter.
The latter goes out, walks all night; not a single man takes her; she
is ugly. A couple of days later, three young rascals on the boulevard
take her. She brought home a note which turned out to be a lottery
ticket no longer valid.
* * * * *
Two wives: one in Petersburg, the other in Kertch. Constant rows,
threats, telegrams. They nearly reduce him to suicide. At last
he finds a way: he settles them both in the same house. They are
perplexed, petrified; they grow silent and quiet down.
* * * * *
His character is so undeveloped that one can hardly believe that he
has been to the University.
* * * * *
And I dreamt that, as it were, what I considered reality was a dream,
and the dream was reality.
* * * * *