My field was God's earth. Wherever I ploughed, there was my field. Land was free. It was a thing no man called his own. Labor was the only thing men called their own.
And even now I experience that blessed feeling. To love one's neighbors, to love one's enemies. Always to love--to love God in all His Manifestations. To love one's friends is human love, but to love one's enemies is divine.
Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide with dismay, and then took off his cap and crossed himself. ‘God rest his soul! May the Lord's will be done with all of us!' He sighed deeply and was silent. ‘I loved and respected him, and I sympathize with you with all my heart.' He embraced.
All's over, and there's nothing more, said Dolly. And the worst of it all is, you see, that I can't cast him off: there are the children, I am tied. And I can't live with him! It's torture to see him.
I'll tell you truly: I value my thought and work terribly, but in essence - think about it - this whole world of ours is just a bit of mildew that grew over a tiny planet. And we think we can have something great - thoughts, deeds! They're all grains of sand.
If there is a God and future life, there is truth and good, and man's highest happiness consists in striving to attain them. We must live, we must love, and we must believe that we live not only today on this scrap of earth, but have lived and shall live.