My question - that which at the age of fifty brought me to the verge of suicide - was the simplest of questions, lying in the soul of every man from the foolish child to the wisest elder: it was a question without answering which one cannot live, as I had found by experience. It was: “What will come of what I am doing today or shall do tomorrow? - What will come of my whole life?” Differently expressed, the question is: “Why should I live, why wish for anything, or do anything?” It can also be expressed thus: “Is there any meaning in my life that the inevitable death awaiting me does not destroy?

Leo Tolstoy in A Confession (1882)

[I’ve asked this question a hundred times.]

393 notes

Show

  1. beau-reverie reblogged this from lamouroulafolie
  2. lamouroulafolie reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  3. shanebolda reblogged this from kel53y
  4. kel53y reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  5. shallowheavens reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  6. iliveinthestatelibrary reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  7. motherbox reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  8. isleepincloudsoffire reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  9. 20727 reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  10. jennyfromthbloc reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  11. mathematicalmycroft reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  12. notes-of-the-self reblogged this from russkayaliteratura
  13. russkayaliteratura reblogged this from awritersruminations
  14. therabbitisme reblogged this from predatorywaspobserver
  15. plays-with-squirrels reblogged this from awritersruminations
  16. chiaruscuru reblogged this from anananagi
  17. forgettingonceandforall reblogged this from private-transit
  18. skyghe reblogged this from bigmouthedwoman
  19. bigmouthedwoman reblogged this from confusionis
  20. samdiamond reblogged this from booklover
  21. atthechimeofacityclock reblogged this from helplesslyamazed