{"author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin","total_quotes":60,"quotes":[{"text":"True literature can exist only where it is created, not by diligent and trustworthy functionaries, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dreamers, rebels, and skeptics.","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["writing"],"id":14723,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"I walked alone through the twilit street. The wind was whirling, driving, carrying me like a slip of paper. Fragments of cast-iron sky flew and flew-they had another day, two days to hurtle through infinity… The unifs of passersby brushed against me, but I walked alone. I saw it clearly: everyone was saved, but there was no salvation for me. I did not want salvation …'(c).","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["freedom","love"],"id":15597,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"You can only love something that refuses to be mastered.","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["passion"],"id":19590,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"What we need in literature today are vast philosophic horizons; we need the most ultimate, the most fearsome, the most fearless 'Why?' and 'What next?'('Literature, Revolution, and Entropy').","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["art","fearsome","literaturem","ultimate","writing"],"id":34507,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ('The North').","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["day","girl","night","winter"],"id":39777,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"In the ancient world, this was understood by the Christians, our only (if very imperfect) predecessors: Humility is a virtue, pride a vice; We comes from God, I from the Devil.","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["christianity","humility","pride"],"id":51863,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"The flame will cool tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow (in the Book of Genesis days are equal to years, ages). But someone must see this already today, and speak heretically today about tomorrow. Heretics are the only (bitter) remedy against the entropy of human thought.","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["heresy","revolution"],"id":56159,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"Gripped with bitter cold, ice-locked, Petersburg burned in delirium. One knew: out there, invisible behind the curtain of fog, the red and yellow columns, spires, and hoary gates and fences crept on tiptoe, creaking and shuffling. A fevered, impossible, icy sun hung in the fog - to the left, to the right, above, below - a dove over a house on fire. From the delirium-born, misty world, dragon men dived up into the earthly world, belched fog - heard in the misty world as words, but here becoming nothing - round white puffs of smoke. The dragon men dived up and disappeared again into the fog. And trolleys rushed screeching out of the earthly world into the unknown. ('The Dragon').","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["cold","winter"],"id":97344,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"I looked silently at her lips. All women are lips, all lips. Some are pink and firmly round: a ring, a tender guardrail from the whole world. And then there are these ones: a second ago they weren’t here, and just now — like a knife-slit — they are here, still dripping sweet blood.","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["women"],"id":105634,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"},{"text":"I'm like a machine being run over its RPM limit: The bearings are overheating - a minute longer, and the metal is going to melt and start dripping and that'll be the end of everything. I need a quick splash of cold water, logic. I pour it on in buckets, but the logic hisses on the hot bearings and dissipates in the air as a fleeting white mist. Well, of course, it's clear that you can't establish a function without taking into account what its limit is. And it's also clear that what I felt yesterday, that stupid 'dissolving in the universe,' if you take it to its limit, is death. Because that's exactly what death is - the fullest possible dissolving of myself into the universe. Hence, if we let L stand for love and D for death, then L = f (D), I.E., love and death...","author":"Yevgeny Zamyatin","tags":["death","love"],"id":110416,"author_id":"Yevgeny+Zamyatin"}],"pagination":{"page":1,"page_size":10,"total":60,"pages":6,"next":"?page=2\u0026page_size=10"}}