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“Everything comes to an end, only objects are left to pine in the dark.”
― Andrei Platonov, Happy Moscow

“Then she would wander through fields, over simple, poor land, looking carefully and keenly all round her, still getting used to being alive in the world, and feeling glad that everything in it was right for her â€� for her body, her heart, and her freedom.”
― Andrei Platonov, Happy Moscow

“Ve iÅŸte bazen, hastayken, mutsuzken, aşıkken, fecibir kabus gördüğümüzde, genel olarak normdan uzaklaÅŸtığımız durumlarda iki kiÅŸi olduÄŸumuzu açık seçik duyarız: Yani ben tek kiÅŸiyimdir ama içimde biri daha vardır. Bu gizemli "o" sık sık mırıldanır, bazen aÄŸlar, içinden çıkıp uzak bir yere gitmek ister, canı sıkılır, korkar. Görürüz ki iki kiÅŸiyiz ve birbirimizden bıkmışız. Bilincimiz çift deÄŸil tek olduÄŸunda bir hafiflik, özgürlük duyarız, manasız bir hayvan cennetine düşmüşüz gibi.”
― Andrey Platonov, Mutlu Moskova

“Bazen Komyagin içinden şöyle düşünüyordu: Bir ya da iki ay sonra yeni bir hayata baÅŸlarım, resimleri bitiririm, ÅŸiirleri tamamlarım, dünya görüşümü baÅŸtan sona gözden geçiririm, dokümanları hale yola koyarım, düzgün bir iÅŸe girerim, örnek işçi olurum, bir kadın-arkadaÅŸ sever ve evlenirim... Bir-iki ay kadar sonra zamanın kendisinde de özel bir ÅŸey gerçekleÅŸeceÄŸini ve duraklayıp kendisini hareketinin içine alacağını umuyordu, oysa yıllar penceresinin önünden dur durak bilmeden, mutlu bir tesadüf denk gelmeksizin geçip gidiyordu. O zaman Komyagin yatağından kalkıyor ve polis dayanışma görevlisi sıfatıyla millete kalabalık mahallerde ceza kesmeye gidiyordu.”
― Andrey Platonov, Happy Moscow

“A dark man with a burning torch ran down the street on a dull night in late fall. The little girl saw him from the window of her house, having awoken from a dull dream. Then she heard a sharp rifle shot and a pitiful despondent scream â€� they must have killed the man running with the torch. Soon she was hearing other shots, many and distant, and the clamor of people in a nearby prisonâ€� The girl fell asleep and forgot everything that she would see later, on subsequent days: she was too young, and the memory and reason of early childhood were overgrown forever by her future life. But well into her old age the nameless man rose up sadly and unexpectedly and ran within her â€� in the dim light of her memory â€� and died once more in the darkness of the past, in the heart of the grown up child. Amidst hunger and sleep, in a moment of love or of some youthful joy â€� suddenly in the distance, in the depth of her body there rose again the despondent scream of the dead man, and the young woman instantly altered her life â€� stopped her dance, if she was dancing, grew more focused, more reliable in her work, if she was laboring, hid her face in her hands, if she was alone. That stormy night of late fall saw the start of the October revolution â€� in that town where Moskva Ivanovna Chestnova had lived at that time.”
― Andrei Platonov, Happy Moscow

“At night, after his wife and son had gone to sleep, Semyon Ivanovich would stand there, above Matryona Filippovna’s face, and observe how entirely helplessly she was, how pathetically her face had clenched in miserable exhaustion, while her eyes were closed like kind eyes, as if, while she lay unconscious, some ancient angel were resting in her. If all of humanity were lying still and sleeping, it would be impossible to judge its real character from its face and one could be deceived.”
― Andrei Platonov, Happy Moscow