A Quote by Anton Chekhov

A man wants nothing so badly as a gooseberry farm. — © Anton Chekhov
A man wants nothing so badly as a gooseberry farm.
A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down.
A man can do anything he wants to do in this world, at least if he wants to do it badly enough.
What a man wants to do he generally can do, if he wants to badly enough.
Barack wants to stop all children from working on the farm... Can you imagine this? I just, I can't fathom that. Did you ever think we'd grow up in America and see something like that? Let me take it one step further. He wants to disallow the 4-H from training children to work on a farm.
Barack wants to stop all children from working on the farm... Can you imagine this? I just, I can't fathom that. Did you ever think we’d grow up in America and see something like that? Let me take it one step further. He wants to disallow the 4-H from training children to work on a farm.
It was a mystery to me. To that awful black-and-white farm, with that aunt who was dressed badly, with smelly farm animals around when she could live with winged monkeys and magic shoes and gay lions. I didn't get it.
Whatever a man wants badly and persistently enough will determine the man's character.
My retirement was now become solitude; the former is, I believe, the best state for the mind of man, the latter almost the worst. In complete solitude, the eye wants objects, the heart wants attachments, the understanding wants reciprocation. The character loses its tenderness when it has nothing to strengthen it, its sweetness when it has nothing to soothe it.
The man that found the 726-carat diamond in Africa, received $350,000 for it and wants to buy a farm and silk hat. Well, I can understand a man perhaps being eccentric enough to want to own a silk hat.
...revivals (or any other spiritual gifts and graces) come only to those who want them badly enough. It may be said without qualification that every man is as holy and as full of the Spirit as he wants to be. He may not be as full as he wishes he were, but he is most certainly as full as he wants to be.
A man who wants the truth becomes a scientist; a man who wants to give free play to his subjectivity may become a writer; but what should a man do who wants something in between?
Ivan Lendl is a robot, a solitary, mechanical man who lives with his dogs behind towering walls at his estate in Connecticut. A man who so badly wants to have a more human image that he's having surgery to remove the bolts from his neck.
Anybody can do anything he wants to if he wants to do it badly enough.
Physically there is nothing to distinguish human society from the farm-yard except that children are more troublesome and costly than chickens and calves and that men and women are not so completely enslaved as farm stock.
I've been wondering about Dostoyevsky. How can a man write so badly, so unbelievably badly, and make you feel so deeply?
Alas! this is the crying sin of the age, this want of faith in the prevalence of a man. Nothing can be effected but by one man. Hewho wants help wants everything. True, this is the condition of our weakness, but it can never be the means of our recovery. We must first succeed alone, that we may enjoy our success together.
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