I shall be an autocrat, that's my trade; and the good Lord will forgive me, that's his.

I shall be an autocrat: that's my trade. And the good Lord will forgive me: that's his.

Shall I, that have destroyed my Preservers, return home?

The more a man knows, the more he forgives.

A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.

You philosophers are lucky men. You write on paper and paper is patient. Unfortunate Empress that I am, I write on the susceptible skins of living beings.