Quotes of Marina Tsvetaeva. Quotes Tsvetaeva Quotes about M Tsvetaeva

Marina Tsvetaeva - the greatest Russian poetess of the twentieth century with a tragic destiny. It's incredibly talented, she began to write poems for another 6 years, and not only in Russian, as well as in French and German! The first collection of poems, published by her at 18, immediately drew the attention of famous poets.

She gave the world a beautiful poetry. Sincere, immediate and piercing ...

Life did not gear Marina Tsvetaeva ... Her husband was shot on suspicion of political espionage, a 3-year-old child died from hunger in the shelter, and the second daughter was repressed for 15 years. Left is alone with her son, she tried to find a job, but even Litfond rejected her statement, considering that Tsvetaeva could be a German spy.

Pasternak, accomplishing Tsvetaeva in evacuation, gave her a rope for a suitcase, without even suspecting which terrible role of this rope is destined to play. Without sustaining the humility, Marina Tsvetaeva, on August 31, 1941, committed suicide, having fun on her.

We collected 25 quotes of this beautiful woman who reveal the whole depth and wisdom of her tragic destiny:

Based on materials - mirkrasoty.life

Prepared: Dmitry Sirotkin

I am pleased to prepare a selection quote Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva .

Probably, by concentration The senses per unit of words are superior to poets, and at the concentration of thought per unit of words - philosophers.

Therefore, quotes a lot. They are separated by topics: Love, poetry, poets, about yourself, relationship, ethics, people, women, men, soul, life, homeland, books, children and parents, family, different.

About love

I get you away from all lands, all the heavens ...

The first love view is the shortest distance between two points, the divine straight line, which is not the second.

Women love not men, but love, men are not love, but women. Women never change. Men - always.

Love is a strange thing: feeds hunger and dies from food.

All love is a deal. Skin for money. Skins for the skin. Skin per soul. When you do not get either that, nor the other, neither the third, even such an olukh-merchant as I stop credit.

"Cuts - WILL". I love this phrase, only on the contrary.

And forever one and that f -
Let him love the hero in the novel!

"I will love you all summer," this sounds more convincing than "all life" and - the main thing - wherever longer!

I love two things: you - and love.

In love, because only in someone else's, native - you love.

Rights in love is one who is more to blame.

If I love a man, I want him to be better from me - at least the sewn down button. From the sewed button - until my soul.

You never loved me. If love decompose on all its composite elements - everything is obvious; Tenderness, curiosity, pity, delight, etc. If you add all this together - maybe there will be love.
- But it never stood together.

Love: in winter from the cold, in summer from the heat, in the spring from the first leaves, in the fall from the latter: always from everything.

About poetry

Art has the same nature. Do not look for other laws in it, except for your own (not the self-definition of the artist, not existing, namely the laws of art). Maybe art is only a branch of nature (the view of her creativity). It is reliable: the work of art is the work of nature, the same born, and not created.

There is no genius without will, but there is even no more, there is even less - without any. The will is the unit to countless billions of the Nativity, thanks to which only they are billions (carry out their billiona) and without which they are zeros - that is, bubbles over sinking. The last atom of resistance to the element in glory to her - and there is art. Nature, rejecting itself in his glory.

While you are a poet, there are no death in the elements, for it all returns you to the elements of the elements: the word.
While you are a poet, there are no death in the elements, because it is not death, but returning to Lono.
The death of the poet is a rejection of the elements. It's easier to immediately cut the veins.

All art is one response.

All our art is to be able to be able to oppose each answer, until you evaporate, your question. It gets off the answers and there is inspiration.

These half an hour of Gogol near the fireplace was more made for good and against art than the whole long sermon thick.

Essentially, all the work of the poet comes down to the execution, the physical execution of the spiritual (not own) task. As well as all the will of the poet - to the working will to implement. (Sole creative will - no.)

The word for ideas is the body, for the elements - the soul.

No need to work on verses, you need to verse over you (in you!) Worked.

The poet sees an invalid statue, an unlocked picture and hears the notigated music.

Fear concepts that are taught in words, rejoice in words that are revealed.

As such life, I do not like, for me it begins to mean, to comply the meaning and weight is only transformed, i.e. - in art. If I were taken over the ocean - to the paradise - and banned writing, I would give up the ocean and paradise.

Creativity is a common cause, created by secluded.

The poet cannot sing the state - no matter how - because it is a spontaneous phenomenon, the state is all - the binding of the elements.

About poets

The poet is the answer. Pushkin said: on everything. Answer genius.

The poet inevitably tolerates the collapse on all other ways of implementation. The familiar, accustomed (by itself) to the Absolute, he demands that she cannot give.

Oh, poets, poets! Single real lovers of women!

What a poet from the former and sowing is not ebony, and what poet did not kill?

When I think about the moral essence of this human individual: the poet, I always remember the definition of a Tolstsky Father in "Childhood and Advisor": - He belonged to the dangerous breed of people who the same act can tell as the greatest lowness and as the most innocent joke .

Cynic can not be a poet.

Poet! poet! The most animated and how often - can be an animation of its own - the most inhuman item!

Too extensive and durable of the earthly foundation of the genius, to give him - so to leave. Be Shakespeare, Goethe, Pushkin above, they would not have heard a lot, they would not answer much, they would simply not be reduced to much.

About A. Pushkin: Pushkin infected me with love. In short, love. After all, it is different: the thing that is no name is - and the thing that is so called.
What happiness for Russia, that Pushkin is killed by a foreigner's hand, he was not found.

About K. Balmont: So, Balmont will remain in Russian poetry - the overseas guest, who asked, who spoke, stirred it - with a raid - and also ever ever.

About V. Bryusov: Willion Miracle - all Pushkin. Wonderful Will - all Bryusov.

About A. Blok: Surprisingly not what he died, but what he lived. After all, he is such an obvious celebration of the Spirit.

About S. Yesenine: Yesenin had a song gift, and there was no personality. His tragedy is a tragedy of emptiness. By 30 years, he ended internally. He had only youth.

O V. Mayakovsky: Twelve years in a row, Mayakovsky man killed Mayakovsky-poet in himself, the poet stood up and killed a man. If there is a suicide in this life, it is not where they see him, and it lasted not descending the smoke, and twelve years of life.

About M. Voloshin: The deeper, I'm looking into a bottomless well well, the sharper the two appearance of Max, the Greek myth and the German fairy tale.

O R. RILK: You are embodied poetry, your name is already a poem. You are the phenomenon of nature that cannot be mine and who do not love, but feel the whole being, or you are the embodied fifth element: the poetry itself, or you are what poetry is born and what is more born to you.

About me: "Second Pushkin" or "First Poet-Woman" - that's what I deserve and, maybe I'll wait. Smaller do not need ...

About myself

Forty seven years old I will say that everything that I was destined to know - I learned up to seven years, and all the next forty - realized.

My soul is monstrously jealous: she would not bring me a beauty. Talk about appearance in my cases - it is unreasonable: it is so obviously, and so much - not in it!

In my feelings, like in children's, no degrees.

The immenseness of my words is only a weak shadow of the immersion of my feelings.

I hurt me, do you understand? I am an encouraged person, and you are all in armor. All of you are: art, public, friendship, entertainment, family, duty - I have, to depth, no one.

The most inxicating for me is devotion in misfortune. This overshadows everything.

After all, I know that I live last time.

I am not a love heroine, I will never leave the lover, always in love.

No one took anything!
I sweetly, that we apart.
I kiss you - hundreds
Disconnecting versts.

Oh, how many women loved and will love you stronger. Everyone will love you more. No one will love you so ...

What am I doing in the world? - I listen to my soul.

I can say about my soul, as one woman about his girl: "She is not boring for me." I wonderfully transferring separation. While a person is near, I obediently, carefully and enthusiastically absorb them when it is not there.

All people bore my poems, no one - my soul.

I have a special gift to go with you (thoughts, verses, even love) just not-to-theme.

I'm insatiable to the soul.

When I try to live, I feel a poor little Schwean, which can never make a beautiful thing that only makes that spoils and wures myself, and which, throwing everything: scissors, matter, threads, is accepted. By the window, behind which it rains endlessly.

I started laughing and dress up for 20 years, before and smiled rarely. I do not know a person more heroic in early youth than himself.

The clarity of my feelings makes people take them for reasoning.

I want you to love me all I am. This is the only means (to be beloved - or unloved).

Who is created from a stone who is created from clay -
And I am silly and sparkle!
I'm the case - treason, I am name - Marina,
I am a marine marine foam.

For the speed of rapid events,
For the truth, for the game ...
- Listen! - Love me yet
For the fact that I die.

The audio enjoyment of my life was walking - lonely and fast, fast and lonely. My great lonely gallop.

I want such a modest, murderous-simple thing: so that when I enter, a man rejoiced.

About relationship

Every time I find out that a person loves me - I am surprised, I won't love - I am surprised, but most wondered when a person is indifferent to me.

To love - to see a man as he thought God was conceived and did not make parents. Do not love - see a person as his parents were implemented. Feel out in love - see instead: the table, chair.

I like that you are not sick with me,
I like that I am not sick,
That never heavy balloon
Does not float under our legs.

The human conversation is one of the deepest and subtle pleasures in life: I give the best - the soul, take the same instead, and all this is easy, without the difficulty and demandingness of love.

For to understand the other - it means this other at least to become an hour.

For complete coherence, the souls need consistency of breathing, for that - Breath, how is not the rhythm of the soul? So, so that people understand each other, it is necessary that they go or lay nearby.

It's sad to confess, but we are only good with those whose eyes can still be acquired or losing.

"Beloved" - theatrical, "lover" - frankly, "friend" - indefinitely. Unlocking country!

We can sometimes love ten years old, lovingly - a lot - two. Inhuman - always one ...

The first victory of a woman over a man is a story of a man about his love for another. And the final victory is the story of this another about his love for him, about his love for her. The secret has become apparent, your love is mine. And while this is not, you can not sleep well.

If you consider you a close person, you made me suffer very much, if a stranger, - you brought me only good. I never felt like such nor others, I fought in myself for everyone, that is, against everyone.

Each of us, at the bottom of the soul, lives a strange feeling of contempt for the one who loves us too much. (Someone "and just"? - that is, if you love me so much, me, you yourself are not a god news what!)

Eternal loyalty We want not from Penelope, but from Carmen, - only the faithful Don Juan in price!

You are the road to me. But - I just have nothing more breathing with you.

Betrayal already points to love. It is impossible to betray a friend.

False. It is not despised when Luge, and you who makes me lie.

No one has judged the sun for the fact that it shines and the other ...

For me, loneliness - at times - the only way to know the other, direct necessity.

Bayukai - but please be a friend:
Not letters, but a hand of hand:
Coats ...

About the cry of women of all time:
My cute, what did I do you?!

Love movement.
And I know - I will not say first.
- Do not love? - No, I love.
Do not love? - But Istrisan.

On vital ethics

It is necessary to live so that the soul comes true.

No passion shifts in me justice. Do another pain, no, a thousand times, it is better to endure the most. I am not a winner. I myself under the trial, my court is stricter, I do not like myself, do not shy.

In the dialogue with life, it is not its question, but our answer.

Sin is not in the dark, but in the reluctance of light.

The power of a person often lies in what he cannot do, and not in what can. My "I can not" - the main power. So, there is something that, despite all my wants, still does not want.

Listen and remember: everyone who laughs above the other, a fool or a scoundrel; Most often - both.

Friend! Indifference - a bad school
She boots hearts.

I always preferred to get to sleep, and not deprive sleep, there is, and not deprive appetite, to think, and not deprive the mind. I always preferred to give - to deliver, give - get, give - to have.

You need to meet for love, for the rest there are books.

It is better to lose a person to anyone than to keep him some of his hundred.

About people

No small events. There are little people.

The one who goes around without people - without the same and people do.

When people, bored, deprive the faces, they are made first by the herd, then sophisticated.

As far as I see a person better when not with him!

The only thing that people do not forgive is that you are without them, in the end, cost.

A happy person life should be rejoice, encourage him in this rare gift. Because from happy - there is happiness.

My generation is my knee.

Void swallors, newspaper readers.

The more I recognize people - the more I love the trees!

I love the rich. Wealth - Nimb. In addition, they never expect anything good from them, as from the kings, so a simple-reasonable word on their lips is a revelation, a simple-human feeling - heroism. If it is impossible to be neither a person nor a handsome man, nor noble, you have to be rich.

About women

All women lead in fog.

All women are divided into maintenance and maintenance. I belong to the last.

Lovels and motherhood almost exclude each other. Real motherhood - courageous.

A woman if she is a man, a man is needed, like a luxury, - very, very sometimes. Books, house, care for children, joy from children, lonely walks, bitter clock, delight watch, - What's the man here? In a woman, outside the man, the whole two seas: life and their own soul.

Cute! Or maybe I do so much, because none of you did not do enough?

- "Woman cannot alone."
- Human can.

I, when I do not like, - I'm not ... I'm not so long ago - I'm not ...

Nobody despises an honest woman like that - like an honest woman.

About men

Men are not accustomed to pain - like animals. When they hurt them, they immediately have such eyes that you will do anything, just stopped.

How many would I never understand if a man was born.

You are so forgetful how unburded.

Make it so that your chest pulled me out, - no! "So that I was spacious in it, expand it - not for me: chance, but for the fact that it rushes through me.

The look - to the view - dare and leveled,
Heart - five years old ...
Happy who did not meet you
On his way.

About soul

Something hurts: not a tooth, not a head, not a stomach, not - not - ... and hurts. This is the soul.

The soul is five senses. The virtuosity of one of them is talent, the virtuosity of all five is genius.

The soul is a sail. Wind - life.

The soul grows from everything, most of all - from losses.

My soul loses my head.

Want is a matter of bodies,
And we are for each other - the soul ...

In the world, a limited number of shower and an unlimited number of tel.

There are bodies, surprisingly similar to the soul.

About life

On your crazy world
The answer is one - the refusal ...

The most valuable in life and in verses is something that has broken.

If something hurts - silently, otherwise you will hit it there.

Be a contemporary - to create your time, and not reflect it.

I do not want to have a point of view. I want to have vision.

I generally atrophy the present, not only I do not live, never happen in it.

We joke, jumped, and the longing everything grows, grows ...

The first reason for the rejection of things is unprepared to it.

About Motherland

The homeland is not the conventionality of the territory, but the immutability of memory and blood. Not to be in Russia, forgetting it - only the one who thinks Russia can be afraid to be afraid. In whom she is inside, - he will lose it with life. My homeland is everywhere, where there is a desk, a window and a tree under this window.

Do not deplete and tongue
Native, his call Milky.
I am indifferent to what
Notponed to be counter!

Russia, to her honor, or rather to the honor of her conscience and not to the honor of her artisticity, always approached the writers, or rather: always went to the writers - as a man to the king - truth, and well, when the destruction was told, and not Arzybashev.

About books

The book must be executed by the reader as Sonata. Letters - notes. In the will of the reader - to carry out or distort.

The book should write the reader. The best reader reads closing your eyes.

Books gave me more than people. The memories of a person will always be pale before the memory of the book.

Each book - theft in his own life. The more you read, the less you know how and want to live myself.

About children and parents

Our children are older than us, because they are longer, to live. Older us from the future. Therefore, sometimes we are alien.

Children first love, then judge, and then they regret parents.

Not too angry with your parents, - Remember that they were you, and you will be them.

Keiling to constantly do your own - and in his heart will always be love.

Boys need to pamper - they may have to have war.

About family

Marriage, where both are good - valiant, voluntary and mutual torment (s).

Family ... Yes, boring, yes, poor, yes, the heart is not afraid ... is not better: friend, lover? But, having quarreled with my brother, I still have the right to say: "I will help me, because you are my brother ... (son, father ...)" And the lover will not tell this - for anything - the language will eliminate.

About different

Fashion is perpetual fear of falling down, that is, a receipt in your own sheep.

Sport is a waste of time on waste forces. Below athlete only its viewer.

Tango! - How much destinies it reduces and divorced!

Face is light. And it, indeed, lights up and goes out.

Much. Perhaps I needed tougher tired quotes, but somehow I do not want.

In addition You can read:

Marina Tsvetaeva - the best quotes of poetess! One of the largest Russian poets of the twentieth century, the prose and translator Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva (1892 - 1941) began writing poems - not only in Russian, but also in French and German - still at a six-year-old age. And her first published collection of poems at 18 years old immediately attribute the attention of famous poets.

Fate at Marina Tsvetaeva developed incredibly tragic. War and poverty make themselves felt. One of her child at 3 years old dies from hunger in the shelter, a husband on suspicion of political espionage is shot, the second daughter will repress for 15 years.

Tsvetaeva and his son goes to the evacuation in Chistopol, where the majority of writers referred - there she is promised to recruit and work. Tsvetaeva writes a statement: "Please take me to work as a dishwasher in the opening dining room. But she did not give such work: the Council found it that she could be a German spy.

We collected 25 quotes of Marina Tsvetaeva about love and life, which reveal the depth and wisdom of her tragic fate:

"I will love you all summer," it sounds more convincing than "all life" and - most importantly - wherever longer!

If you now entered and said: "I am leaving for a long time, forever," or: "I think I don't like you anymore," I would seem to feel anything new: every time you leave every hour every time When you are not - you are not forever and you do not like me.

• In love, because only in someone else's, native - you love.

• You need to meet for love, for the rest there are books.

• Creativity is a common cause, created by secluded.

• In the world, a limited number of shower and unlimited bodies.

• Love - it means to see a man as he thought about God and did not carry out her parents.

If I love a man, I want him to be better from me - at least the sewn down button. From the sewed button - until my soul.

• Success is to have time.

• What can you know about me, since you did not sleep with me and did not drink?

• No on the ground of you.

• I do not want to have a point of view. I want to have vision.

• Listen and remember: everyone who laughs over the other, fool or rascal; Most often, both.

• The only thing that people do not forgive are that you are without them, in the end, cost.

Sculptor depends on clay. Artist from paints. Musician from strings. The artist, the musician can stop the hand. The poet is only a heart.

• "Cuts - WILL". I love this phrase, only on the contrary.

Favorite things: music, nature, poems, loneliness. He loved simple and empty places that do not like anyone. I love physics, her mysterious laws of attraction and repulsion, similar to love and hatred.

In one I am a real woman: I'm all judging by myself, every vagina in the mouth - my speech, in my chest - my feelings. Therefore, everything is in my first minute: good, generous, generous, sleepless and insane.

• As far as I see a person better when not with him!

No one wants - no one can understand one thing: that I am completely alone. Familiar and friends - all Moscow, but no one who is for me - no, without me! - dies.

Men are not accustomed to pain - like animals. When they hurt them, they immediately have such eyes that you will do anything, just stopped.

Dream whether together, whether to sleep together, but they always cry alone.

Oh, my God, but they say that there is no soul! And what hurts me now? "It's not a tooth, not a head, not a hand, not a breast," no, chest, in the chest, where you breathe, "I breathe deeply: it does not hurt, but all the time hurts, all the time whines, Nesterpimo!

I want such a modest, murderless thing: so that when I enter, a man rejoiced.

We can sometimes love ten years old, lovingly - a lot - two. Inhuman - always alone.