Ivan Turgenev

“ I thought I had convinced you . . ."
"And apart from all that," broke in Bazarov, "how can we want to talk and think about the future, which for the most part doesn't depend on ourselves? If an opportunity turns up of doing something--so much the better, and if it doesn't turn up--at least one can be glad that one didn't idly gossip about it beforehand."
"You call a friendly conversation gossip! Or perhaps you consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise us all!"
"I don't despise you, Anna Sergeyevna, and you know that." ”

“ She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round as if she wanted to say, "Look at me; see how shocked I am!" and again stared at Arkady, but he merely raised his head, and exchanging glances with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.
Madame Odintsov walked quickly into her study. Bazarov followed her without raising his eyes, and only listening to the delicate swish and rustle of her silk dress gliding in front of him. Madame Odintsov sat down in the same armchair in which she had sat the evening before, and Bazarov also sat down in his former place. ”

“ It won't bore you?"
"I am at your service, Anna Sergeyevna. But what were we talking about last night?"
Madame Odintsov cast a sidelong glance at Bazarov.
"We were talking about happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By the way, I just mentioned the word 'happiness.' Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying, for instance, music, a beautiful evening, or a conversation with agreeable people, it all seems to be rather a hint of immeasurable happiness existing somewhere apart, rather than genuine happiness, such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess? Why is it? ”