Why Have I Lived?

I run through the memory of my past in its entirety and can’t help asking myself: why have I lived? For what purpose was I born? . . . There probably was one once, and I probably did have a lofty calling, because I feel a boundless strength in my soul . . . But I didn’t divine this calling. I was carried away with the bait of passions, empty and unrewarding. I came out of their crucible as hard and cold as iron, but I had lost forever the ardor for noble aspirations, the best flower of life . . .

A Hero of Our Time

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I Ought to Hate You

‘Tell me, does it amuse you very much to torture me? I ought to hate you. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve brought nothing but suffering…’
Her voice trembled, she leaned towards me and lowered her head upon my breast.
Perhaps that’s why you loved me, I thought. Moments of happiness one forgets, but sorrow never.

A Hero of Our Time

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