Katya Odintsov Quotes in Fathers and Sons
“I am now no longer the conceited boy I was when I first arrived here,” Arkady continued. “I have not reached the age of twenty-two for nothing; I still have every wish to lead a useful life, I still want to devote all my energies to the pursuit of truth; but I can no longer seek my ideal where I did before; I perceive it now . . . much closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself, I set myself tasks beyond my capacity… My eyes have recently been opened, thanks to a certain emotion … I am not expressing myself very clearly but I hope you will understand me . . .”
“You see what I’m doing: there happened to be an empty space in my trunk, and I’m stuffing it with hay; it’s the same with the trunk which is our life: we fill it with anything that comes to hand rather than leave a void […] And now, in parting, let me repeat . . . because there is no point in deceiving ourselves—we are parting for good, and you know that yourself . . . you have acted sensibly: you were not made for our bitter, harsh, lonely existence. There’s no audacity in you, no venom: you’ve the fire and energy of youth but that’s not enough for our business. Your sort, the gentry, can never go farther than well-bred resignation or well-bred indignation, and that’s futile.”
Katya Odintsov Quotes in Fathers and Sons
“I am now no longer the conceited boy I was when I first arrived here,” Arkady continued. “I have not reached the age of twenty-two for nothing; I still have every wish to lead a useful life, I still want to devote all my energies to the pursuit of truth; but I can no longer seek my ideal where I did before; I perceive it now . . . much closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself, I set myself tasks beyond my capacity… My eyes have recently been opened, thanks to a certain emotion … I am not expressing myself very clearly but I hope you will understand me . . .”
“You see what I’m doing: there happened to be an empty space in my trunk, and I’m stuffing it with hay; it’s the same with the trunk which is our life: we fill it with anything that comes to hand rather than leave a void […] And now, in parting, let me repeat . . . because there is no point in deceiving ourselves—we are parting for good, and you know that yourself . . . you have acted sensibly: you were not made for our bitter, harsh, lonely existence. There’s no audacity in you, no venom: you’ve the fire and energy of youth but that’s not enough for our business. Your sort, the gentry, can never go farther than well-bred resignation or well-bred indignation, and that’s futile.”