The Cherry Orchard quotes

Little peasant. … My father was a peasant, it’s true, but here am I in a white waistcoat and brown shoes, like a pig in a bun shop.

Yes, I’m a rich man, but for all my money, come to think, a peasant I was, and a peasant I am

turns over the pages of the book. I’ve been reading this book and I can’t make head or tail of it. I fell asleep over it a pause.

Oh, shut up! Don’t bother me.

Every day some misfortune befalls me. I don’t complain, I’m used to it, and I wear a smiling face.

Dunyasha comes in, hands Lopahin the kvass.

Looking out of the window into the garden.

Oh, my childhood, my innocence!

It was in this nursery I used to sleep, from here I looked out into the orchard, happiness waked with me every morning and in those days the orchard was just the same, nothing has changed laughs with delight. All, all white! Oh, my orchard!

Yes a pause.

If a great many remedies are suggested for some disease, it means that the disease is incurable.

I keep thinking and racking my brains; I have many schemes, a great many, and that really means none.

And so I grew up and became a governess. But where I came from, and who I am, I don’t know. … Who my parents were, very likely they weren’t married … I don’t know takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats.

I know nothing at all

a pause. One wants to talk and has no one to talk to … I have nobody.

But where I came from, and who I am, I don’t know. … Who my parents were, very likely they weren’t married … I don’t know takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats. I know nothing at all a pause.

One wants to talk and has no one to talk to⁠ ⁠… I have nobody.

Plays on the guitar and sings. “What care I for the noisy world! What care I for friends or foes!” How agreeable it is to play on the mandoline!

Don’t go, I entreat you! With you here it’s more cheerful, anyway a pause.

I keep expecting something, as though the house were going to fall about our ears.

In profound dejection. Potted the white! It fails—a kiss.

And most likely there was nothing funny in it.

You shouldn’t look at plays, you should look at yourselves a little oftener. How grey your lives are! How much nonsense you talk.

That’s true. One may say honestly, we live a fool’s life pause. My father was a peasant, an idiot; he knew nothing and taught me nothing, only beat me when he was drunk, and always with his stick.

Sometimes when I lie awake at night, I think: “Oh! Lord, thou hast given us immense forests, boundless plains, the widest horizons, and living here we ourselves ought really to be giants.”

You ask for giants! They are no good except in storybooks; in real life they frighten us.

Epihodov advances in the background, playing on the guitar.

Somehow, Petya, you’ve made me so that I don’t love the cherry orchard as I used to. I used to love it so dearly. I used to think that there was no spot on earth like our garden.

All Russia is our garden.

The earth is great and beautiful—there are many beautiful places in it a pause.

The house we live in has long ceased to be our own, and I shall leave it, I give you my word.

If you have the house keys, fling them into the well and go away. Be free as the wind.

In ecstasy. How beautifully you said that!

As soon as winter comes I am hungry, sick, careworn, poor as a beggar, and what ups and downs of fortune have I not known! And my soul was always, every minute, day and night, full of inexplicable forebodings.

I have a foreboding of happiness, Anya. I see glimpses of it already.

Pensively. The moon is rising.

And why hide it or be silent? I love him, that’s clear. I love him! I love him!

He’s a millstone about my neck, I’m going to the bottom with him, but I love that stone and can’t live without it

presses Trofimov’s hand. Don’t think ill of me, Petya, don’t tell me anything, don’t tell me …