.. and these days I've come to prefer the more steady Bordeaux. I am no longer up to champagne from Ay: it's like a mistress: sparkling, flighty, viv… - Alexander Pushkin

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.. and these days I've come to prefer the more steady Bordeaux. I am no longer up to champagne from Ay: it's like a mistress: sparkling, flighty, vivacious, wayward - and not to be trusted. But Bordeaux is like a friend who in time of trouble and misfortune stands by us always, anywhere, ready to give us help, or just to share our quiet leisure. So raise your glasses - to our friend Bordeaux!

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About Alexander Pushkin

Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin (Russian: Алекса́ндр Серге́евич Пу́шкин) (6 June (26 May, O.S.) 1799 – 10 February (29 January, O.S.) 1837) was a Russian poet, playwright, and novelist of the Romantic era. He is considered by many to be the greatest Russian poet and the founder of modern Russian literature.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Native Name: Александр Сергеевич Пушкин Александръ Сергѣевичъ Пушкинъ
Alternative Names: Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin Aleksandr Pushkin Aleksandr Serge'evich Pushkin Pushkin Pouchkine Aleksandr Sergueevitch
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Additional quotes by Alexander Pushkin

Онегин, я тогда моложе,
Я лучше, кажется, была,
И я любила вас; и что же?
Что в сердце вашем я нашла?
Какой ответ? одну суровость.
Не правда ль? Вам была не новость
Смиренной девочки любовь?
И нынче — боже — стынет кровь,
Как только вспомню взгляд холодный
И эту проповедь… Но вас
Я не виню: в тот страшный час
Вы поступили благородно.
Вы были правы предо мной:
Я благодарна всей душой…

I saw Derzhavin only once in my life but shall never forget that occasion. It was in 1815 at a public examination in the Lyceum. When we boys learned Derzhavin was coming, all of us grew excited. Delvig went out on the stairs to wait for him and kiss his hand, the hand that had written 'The Waterfall.' Derzhavin arrived. Derzhavin entered the vestibule, and Delvig heard him ask the janitor: 'Where is the privy here, my good fellow?' This prosaic question disenchanted Delvig, who canceled his intent and returned to the reception hall. Delvig told me the story with wonderful bonhomie and good humor.

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Как грустно мне твое явленье,
Весна, весна! пора любви!
Какое томное волненье
В моей душе, в моей крови!
С каким тяжелым умиленьем
Я наслаждаюсь дуновеньем
В лицо мне веющей весны
На лоне сельской тишины!

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