Mikhail Lermontov

Of two friends, one is always the other’s slave.

I was traveling post from Tiflis. My cart’s entire load consisted of one small valise, which was half filled with travel notes about Georgia. Of these, the greater part, fortunately for you, have been lost.

What is the greatest good and evil? — two ends of an invisible chain which come closer together the further they move apart.

A solitary sail that rises White in the blue mist on the foam— What is it in far lands it prizes? What does it leave behind at home?