You Will Not Become A Saint Through

A Writer Is Not A Confectioner, A Cosmetic Dealer, Or An Entertainer.

It Is Depressing To Hear The Unfortunate Or Dying Man Jest.

I Promise To Be A Splendid Husband, But Give Me A Wife Who, Like The Moon, Won't In My Sky Every Day...

But At The Same Time, In Reality, What A Difference There Is Between The World Today, And What It Used To Be! And With The Passage Of More Time, Some Two Or Three Hundred Years, Say, People Will Look Back At Our Own Times With Horror, Or With Sneering Laughter, Because All Of Our Present Day Life Will Appear So Clumsy, And Burdensome, Extraordinarily Inept And Strange. Yes, Certainly, What A Life It Will Be Then, What A Life!

To Moscow, To Moscow, To Moscow!