"It's a tough thing, a position of responsibility. It has its own morals, its own code. You want to be kind, soft--but it won't let you, no. The state machinery--it's an orchestra, you know. You want to play, follow the baton. Fall into rhythm."
"It's always seems to me that in the kind of life where the main thing isn't your work but your position, not your accomplishment but your consumption; in the uninspired, dull, self-satisfied life so different from the one that I and millions like me live--there's something foreign and insulting."
"From vulgarity, greed, aggression. From their bankruptcy and our patient patience. When you give a lot to someone you can't expect much from, these kinds of metamorphoses occur."
A 1954 Moskvitch Sports Coupe.
Learn more about this and other
Classic Soviet Cars at:
"A minute ago you crushed a man, offhandedly, without stopping even a minute to think. You trampled his future without even batting an eyelash."
"I became, as they say, a big man; what in our life--in hers, in mine--changed? Nothing. We started working more. The blessings--they fell to you. I thought that was how it was supposed to be--we got the thunderstorms, but then he gets the sun. I was given various honors--I wasn't able to receive them on account of work; they all came to you. People ingratiated themselves before you; you liked that....
"I was just working for the good of our land; I worked and never thought about how power smells, but you experienced its taste from childhood, and its poisoned you....
"Up close, we got in your way, your mother and I, but farther away we were even useful. You know, all your life I propped you up, unseen, all your life I made your resume, thanks to no small number of blockheads in love with paperwork."
"I wont stand for it. I am a citizen of my country. And the point isn't me, a provincial lawyer. The point is the law of that country, its essence. You just about wrecked me, damn you. There were moments when I felt like throwing it all to hell. So there wouldn't be any more traipsing around, meetings, sniveling, guilty smile. But now it's clear to me: I don't have that right. I'm not the point. I have to keep struggling."
"People are unimportant to you, unnecessary. You know the words: the Party, the people, communism. But what do you care about the Party? What do you care about the people? About communism? What do you care that our whole path is behind these words...? What do you care about the 20 million buried during the war? For you, it's just words....
"At the bottom of your soul there's only ambition and...ashes. Nothing else is left. ...
"No matter how much you roar or play games or disguise yourself as a man of principle, no one will believe you, no one. A lot of arrogant careerists have tried to pontificate in our name. Where are they now? Who remembers them?"
"And wherever I met you, in any office, any chair, however you look, whatever you call yourself, whatever your name is, I'll recognize you right away and fight you to the death. You hear? I'll fight you to the death."