Sunday, June 1, 2014

Sunday Sentence: Three Years by Anton Chekhov

Simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.

Your wife told me once in the summer that I should write a history play, and now I want to write and write; it seems I could just sit for three days and night, without getting up, and keep writing.  Images wear me out, they crowd in my head, and I feel as if my brain is pulsing.  I have no wish at all that something special should come from me, that I should create some great thing, I simply want to live, to dream, to hope, to keep up everywhere.

Three Years by Anton Chekhov

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