Ivan Turgenev

“ Nikolai Petrovich introduced him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovich responded with a slight inclination of his supple body and a slight smile, but he did not give him his hand and even put it back in his pocket.
"I began to think that you weren't coming today," he began in a pleasant voice, with an amiable swing and shrug of the shoulders; his smile showed his splendid white teeth. "Did anything go wrong on the road?"
"Nothing went wrong," answered Arkady. "Only we dawdled a bit. So now we're as hungry as wolves. Make Prokovich hurry up, Daddy; I'll be back in a moment." ”

“ Come, come, Arkady, isn't it ridiculous?"
"Perhaps it is, but he's a good man really."
"An archaic survival! But your father is a splendid fellow. He wastes his time reading poetry and knows precious little about farming, but he's kindhearted."
"My father has a heart of gold."
"Did you notice how shy he was?"
Arkady shook his head, as if he were not shy himself.
"It's something astonishing," went on Bazarov, "these old romantic idealists! They go on developing their nervous systems till they get highly strung and irritable, then they lose their balance completely. Well, good night. ”

“ NO CROWD OF HOUSE SERVANTS RAN OUT TO MEET THEIR MASTER; there appeared only a little twelve-year-old girl, and behind her a young lad, very like Pyotr, came out of the house; he was dressed in a grey livery with white armorial buttons and was the servant of Pavel Petrovich Kirsanov. He silently opened the carriage door and unbuttoned the apron of the tarantass. Nikolai Petrovich with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall, through the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's face, and into a drawing room furnished in the most modern style. ”