The Cossacks

by Leo Tolstoy

All is quiet in Moscow.

'To be loved is in your opinion as great a happiness as to love, and if a man obtains it, it is enough for his whole life.'

No, to be beloved is a misfortune. It is a misfortune to feel guilty because you do not give something you cannot give.

A man is never such an egotist as at moments of spiritual ecstasy. At such times it seems to him that there is nothing on earth more splendid and interesting than himself.

It is always the case on a long journey that till the first two or three stages have been passed imagination continues to dwell on the place left behind, but with the first morning on the road it leaps to the end of the journey and there begins building castles in the air.

"There is much dishonesty in men when one comes to reflect."

Though I have done many foolish things, all the same I am a very good fellow,'

I have a gun, and strength, and youth… and the mountains!'

A Cossack, who before strangers considers it improper to speak affectionately or needlessly to his wife, when alone with her is involuntarily conscious of her superiority.

His house and all his property, in fact the entire homestead, has been acquired and is kept together solely by her labour and care.

Vanyusha regarded Olenin as only his master, and Olenin regarded Vanyusha as only his servant; and they would both have been much surprised if anyone had told them that they were friends, as they really were without knowing it themselves.

Hey, Ivan!' shouted the old man. 'All your soldiers are Ivans. Is yours Ivan?'

'There, they say girls have no strength, and you nearly killed me.'

'What are you asking? One must not talk so. It is a serious thing to destroy a human being … Ah, a very serious thing! Good-bye, my dear fellow.

'Mind, get up early; if you oversleep you will be fined!'

He wondered why the Russians were all 'simple' and so rich, and why they were educated, and yet knew nothing.

'If you wish to be a fellow of the right sort, be a brave and not a peasant! Because even a peasant can buy a horse—pay the money and take the horse.'

Trusting is all right, but don't go to sleep without a gun.'

'A first offence must be forgiven,'

'But what though the grass does grow?' he continued thinking. 'Still I must live and be happy, because happiness is all I desire. Never mind what I am—an animal like all the rest, above whom the grass will grow and nothing more; or a frame in which a bit of the one God has been set,—still I must live in the very best way.

Happiness lies in living for others. That is evident. The desire for happiness is innate in every man; therefore it is legitimate. When trying to satisfy it selfishly—that is, by seeking for oneself riches, fame, comforts, or love—it may happen that circumstances arise which make it impossible to satisfy these desires. It follows that it is these desires that are illegitimate, but not the need for happiness. But what desires can always be satisfied despite external circumstances? What are they? Love, self-sacrifice.'

'And is it worth while living for oneself,' thought he, 'when at any moment you may die, and die without having done any good, and so that no one will know of it?'

'Yours kill ours, ours slay yours. It's always the same,'

'A man kills another and is happy and satisfied with himself as if he had done something excellent. Can it be that nothing tells him that it is not a reason for any rejoicing, and that happiness lies not in killing, but in sacrificing oneself?'

'The people live as nature lives: they die, are born, unite, and more are born—they fight, eat and drink, rejoice and die, without any restrictions but those that nature imposes on sun and grass, on animal and tree. They have no other laws.'

The one way to be happy is to love, to love self-denyingly, to love everybody and everything; to spread a web of love on all sides and to take all who come into it. In this way I caught Vanyusha, Daddy Eroshka, Lukashka, and Maryanka.'

Once I have said a thing I keep to it firm as a rock,'

One must taste life once in all its natural beauty,

'Holidays of this kind,' he added, 'always make me wonder why all these people should suddenly be contented and jolly.

Jingling weapons are a terrible disgrace to a Cossack.

When you are out on a raid or the like (you know I'm an old wolf and have seen things), and when they begin firing, don't get into a crowd where there are many men.

You think it is merrier to be with others, but that's where it is worst of all! They always aim at a crowd.

Were I the Tsar I'd have hung all your Russian doctors long ago. Cutting is all they know!

No, my lad, in the mountains there are real doctors.

They understand herbs, my lad!'

"It is very hard, dear brother, In a foreign land to live."