Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

We shall rest. We shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining
like a jewel. We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away in the great compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and tender and sweet as a caress. (...)
My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying! [Weeping] You have never known what happiness was, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest.

The curtain slowly falls.

On the wall hangs a cage containing a starling. There is also a map of Africa on the wall, obviously of no use to anybody. There is a large sofa covered with buckram. A door to the left leads into an inner room; one
to the right leads into the front hall, and before this door lies a mat for
the peasants with their muddy boots to stand on. It is an autumn evening. The silence is profound.

Oh, my sweet tigress!

We are confronted by the degradation of our country, brought
on by the fierce struggle for existence of the human race. It is the
consequence of the ignorance and unconsciousness of starving, shivering,
sick humanity that, to save its children, instinctively snatches
at everything that can warm it and still its hunger. So it destroys
everything it can lay its hands on, without a thought for the morrow.

You must be a witch.

ASTROFF. A woman can only become a man's friend after having first been his acquaintance and then his beloved--then she becomes his friend.

...she was seventeen and I was thirty-seven. Why did I not fall in love with her then and propose to her? It would have been so easy! And now she would have been my wife. Yes, we would both have been waked to-night by the thunderstorm, and she would have been frightened, but I would have held her in my arms and whispered: "Don't be afraid! I am here." Oh, enchanting dream, so sweet that I laugh to think of it.

Don't look at me in that way, I don't like it.

VOITSKI. How can I look at you otherwise when I love you? You are my
joy, my life, and my youth. I know that my chances of being loved in
return are infinitely small, do not exist, but I ask nothing of you.
Only let me look at you, listen to your voice--

Who but a stupid barbarian could burn so much beauty in his stove and destroy that which he cannot make? Man is endowed with reason and the power to create, so that he may increase that which has been given him, but until now he has not created, but demolished. The forests are disappearing, the rivers are running dry, the game is exterminated, the climate is spoiled, and the earth becomes poorer and uglier every day.

Forests temper a stern climate, and in countries where the climate is milder, less strength is wasted in the battle with nature, and the people are kind and gentle. The inhabitants of such countries are handsome, tractable, sensitive, graceful in speech and gesture. Their philosophy is joyous, art and science blossom among them, their treatment of women
is full of exquisite nobility-�-