Composition based on the novel by I.S. Turgenev is written by everyone who studies Russian literature at school. Sometimes the teacher can ask a non-standard essay, for example, an essay - a diary entry. Be sure to read how to write such essays in this article - DIARY COMPOSITION.

In this article, we offer you an example of an essay-diary entry on the work of Turgenev, in particular on his novel "Fathers and Sons"

P. KIRSANOV'S DIARY PAGES

So, I'm in Dresden. Of course, the "health trip abroad" was just an excuse. I think my brother figured out that he was not going to return. And why? In Russia, I left everything - my home, my love, my past. To return would be to admit our own weakness. No no! I have broken with the past forever, in Germany I will be able to start a new life - peaceful and measured ... No, I have no need to return!

It has already been two weeks since I settled in Dresden. Thoughts about the past come to me more and more often ...

I thought a lot about Bazarov. We could have become good friends if fate had turned a little differently. But it's strange - I could have killed him in a duel, but missed ... I missed with ten steps! I considered this a good omen - even then Bazarov began to arouse my sympathy. I found in him everything that was not in the person closest to me, Nicholas - strength of character, decisiveness. Sometimes I recognized myself in Bazarov and argued, argued with him simply out of principle, in order to prove, perhaps to myself, that we were not so alike, although his words were not at all as absurd as I tried to show. Yes, strong nature. And to feel at some moment that the life of this person, whom one cannot but respect - albeit involuntarily - is in your hands ... I was then relieved that Bazarov was still alive ...

But I could not help but challenge him to a duel. Seeing him in the gazebo with Fenichka, I suddenly saw Princess R. in my mind — an image that I still carry in my heart. Bazarov had to pay for making me feel the pain of mental wounds again.

Saturday.

I am surprised to notice that Germany is also familiar with nihilism! This current has taken root deeply! Now, not based on a personal attitude, I can judge nihilism with an open mind, but still these ideas are not to my heart. I cannot understand how it is to deny everything? Deny art, poetry, love itself? I still remember the words of Bazarov: "Raphael is not worth a dime!" And this is said by a person who does not understand anything in painting, simply does not give himself the trouble to understand! As far as I remember, the principle of nihilism sounds something like this: "I believe only in what I can see, hear or feel." But, developing this theory further, it can be assumed that the eyes cannot be trusted! They can be deceived - a person sees the world as he wants to see, so how can you trust your eyes? And you can't rely on hearing ... No, it's scary to think what such thoughts can lead to!

I communicate with Russian emigrants. Many of them arrived quite recently, a little later than me, but even during this time nihilism has already managed to occupy the minds even more, to take root even deeper ... The disturbing words of one of the modern writers, Gogol, involuntarily come to mind: "Rus, where are you rushing?"

Today I was thinking about Bazarov again. What would become of him if he had not died? Would he change his views, or would he have remained an implacable nihilist?

Sometimes an absolutely horrible thought comes to my mind - maybe it's for the best that Bazarov is dead? He will not have to see how all his theories crumble into dust before his eyes, how everything that he believed in is consigned to oblivion, how ideals are crumbling, and this will be so, I am sure of that. Nihilism cannot last long, this is its essence.

Life is gradually entering its usual rut: at exactly four o'clock I walk on the boulevard, then go to dine at the most expensive restaurant ... I am respected, and in my circle I am quite a well-known person. Why am I so uneasy? What depresses me? It's funny - in Russia I've been a sword for the last ten years

talk about emigration, and now ... I miss you! Life here is boring ... Wasn't it the kind of life I dreamed of? So what do I want?

I remember our meadows with fragrant haystacks, our piercing blue lakes and crystal-clear rivers ... Even our men - dark, ignorant, full of beliefs and superstitions that only they understand, but such Russians! What is it? Am I getting sentimental?

No, there's no way I can go back - I'm too stubborn and too proud. It's just nostalgia. But it can't go on forever, can it? On the ring of King Solomon the inscription was engraved: "This too will pass." This is truly great wisdom. So I just have to wait? ..

Hope. This essay in the form of a diary based on Turgenev's novel FATHERS AND CHILDREN helped you and turned out to be useful.

Today, thanks to my friend Arkady, I have a part to visit with him a certain young lady, Anna Odintsova. Going up to her hotel, she met us in a casual, homely dress, looking at us with great calmness and cordiality. It seemed that she did not see the difference between people, with each kind and friendly, only her inner attitude towards a person can be seen in her eyes, her expression for some reason always remained calm and friendly.

My God, what a woman she was! One glance from her made me embarrassed, to feel like a boy next to her. I was scared of a woman! For the first time in my life. I didn’t want to believe it, I drove such thoughts away from me. How could I behave like this around her. It's amazing what effect this person has. She is so sweet and slender that I have never seen such people in my life. No! This is not just a woman. This is a special woman. Nobody could ever interest me like that. Such unexpected feelings inside me are simply frightening. I fear me! This makes a very painful impression, I should not react so much to women no matter what she is, because this is simply not in my rules, how could I even allow myself to think that she is supposedly special and unique. You can't stuff your head with such nonsense, but at least it's already stuffed with it. Odintsova stuck in my head and does not want to leave there.

And how she speaks, in what beautiful correct Russian language, what manners, what posture, and what shoulders, like a real queen. How I want to touch her tender shoulders and neck at least for a moment, I want to stroke them, feel them. God! What am I saying anyway! I am a practical, reasonable person, and such thoughts. Something clearly went wrong. Didn't I fall in love for an hour? No, it can't be! Well, what kind of love, what kind, tell me, love? This is nonsense, this is something non-existent for fools. Am I the same fool? How can I allow such vulgar thoughts in my head. There is no other way to name it. This is nonsense, real nonsense. Oh, damn her! Why did I go to her? Why did I look into her cold, bottomless eyes? As if this woman read my mind and decided for herself to charm me. How does she do it? Such light, unconstrained hand movements, gentle and always for some reason slightly smiling lips. Indeed, I have never seen such beauty and manner. This person is surprisingly educated and beautiful at the same time. You can talk about everything with her, she will never get lost. Indeed, a strange woman. It seems that absolutely anyone can like it. And also Arkady. He seemed to notice my embarrassment next to her, my strange behavior. How disgraced I was! The woman was able to make my beliefs collapse at once. I'm pathetic! I'm disgusted with myself! I should never have feelings, this is nonsense. Now I don’t understand myself at all.

I looked at Madame Odintsov and could not get enough of it. I do not know what is going on in my soul, but I certainly want to see her again. Anna invited us to her place in Nikolskoe. I don't care where to go, I just think that I'll see her again soon and this thought makes me tremble.

Updated: 2015-01-21

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Today I begin my diary, and the impressions after meeting with Nikolai Petrovich are the most common: he is a simple Russian nobleman who sincerely loves and honors his son. He is old-fashioned, so it is not of much interest to me.

But Pavel Petrovich is the embodiment of old views and habits. Why, because of such people, the world is crumbling, it does not allow society to develop! It simply does not fit in his head that the head of state is not yet the "navel of the earth," and that serving the state, surrendering body and soul, is stupid ...

Acquaintance with Madame Odintsova happened in the most usual way. But she left an indelible mark on my soul. This is a beautiful woman with dignity. Her posture, oh my god! This is something divine! This harmony, this is the ability to keep oneself! I was struck by her behavior. Usually women with her appearance are either spoiled to the point of indecency, or arrogant to the point of impossibility. Yes, I agree, she is a widow, and that explains everything. She really managed to keep her reputation unblemished and did not, like others, throw herself at men, chat with them about all kinds of nonsense and make eyes at them in the hope that someone will fall in love with her and marry. And then the woman explains to everyone that he consoled her, calmed her soul, and she could not sit forever in widows, and she is still not so old, and not so ugly.

Anna Sergeevna ... yes, there is something in her. One gets the impression that she is molded from a completely different dough, she was brought up by a person not of this world. I will need to get to know her better, she is worthy of my attention ...

June 15th. Something is wrong in my soul, I cannot control myself. How could I deny this feeling? And yet, for everyone I will remain the same strict and not recognizing person, I will be the same cold. I see that Arkady is in love with Odintsov. He constantly talks to me about this, but I am silent. I am silent, although I know that I should hint about my feelings in front of him, and he will immediately retreat. I was stupid when I thought that I would never love anyone. Yes, I know that God does not exist, but there is destiny, and you never know what it has in store for you. I am severely punished, I must endure this, otherwise I will not be Bazarov, but I will turn into ordinary young people, this smear that melts from beautiful eyes, slender legs and all kinds of nonsense that women so love to flaunt. I agree, they are beautiful, but stupid. But Anna Sergeevna combines the best qualities. Perhaps Arkady loves her, but he could not appreciate her, he is not worthy of her. I want to achieve her, only if I have the courage to confess to her tender feelings, and even more so to propose to her ...

July 20. I shut myself up. I cannot reveal my soul to anyone. It means humiliating yourself, showing yourself weak, and I won't do that. Probably the only person to whom I can open up is Odintsova. But it is to her that my feelings, my thoughts are directed. However, there is a fear of seeing oneself rejected, misunderstood. What if she cannot refuse me and will be with me out of pity, then I will again be humiliated. No, confession is not for me! I will try to restrain myself, but my feelings, no matter how I restrain them, will have to come out, and my patience is already running out ...

August 1. And yet I could not resist ... I confessed to her. Of course, I was not as gentle and verbose as in my heart, I adhered to my usual behavior. However, I did not see the desired reaction in her, she was cold, as befits a worthy woman. My God, my efforts are in vain!

My suffering is not understood. I'm dying! It is no longer unbearable to be with her, I have to leave.

December 25. After much thought and great suffering, I left my love object. I'm going to my parents.

The meeting with my parents comforted me a little, warmed me, but their constant worries are beginning to bother me. They even annoy me to some extent. My thoughts began to return less often to Anna Sergeevna, but I never stopped loving her. I met with her, we talked. But it is clear that she does not love me, she sees in me a friend, like-minded person, but no more. I realized that I would not be with her ...

I was unlucky, my medical work ended in failure, I contracted typhus. So far, the disease has not raged much, but I know that I have not long to live. I will die with honor. I asked my father to send a peasant for Anna Sergeevna. I'm delirious. But will I never see her before I die? Really her lovely features will not flash before my eyes for the last time, it cannot be that her voice does not caress my ears for the last time, her words did not penetrate deep into my heart and did not put everything in its place!

This is a miracle! I saw her the same strict lady, she came to me. However, in her eyes, I did not see that usual cold, but only a feeling of compassion and sadness. But this feeling did not humiliate me, it gave me confidence that she was not indifferent to me. She kind of loved me. Yes, I am dying, but I am dying happy. My soul is pure ...

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Why am I striving here again, Like a wild animal in a bee hive? Why am I poisoning myself with poisons And I shoot bullets in my forehead? As if through a sieve My common sense has flowed somewhere. The ward of the mind, the ward of the mind, And I get up to the devil. A. Ivashchenko, G. Vasiliev

May 20, 1859 We finally arrived in Maryino. Arkady is a smart guy, but his father is an eccentric. As I heard that he began to read Pushkin to Arkady, I was distorted, I wanted to stop this stream of enthusiastic poetry. In fact, I had matches, but what is not an excuse? And I bet Arkady was not very pleased to hear that either. At first glance, the farm seems to be completely neglected. Well, let's hope I'm wrong. Arkady's uncle, this aging dandy, made the most unpleasant impression on me. Better to do something than useful. Yes, even if he helped his brother sensibly in management, he has more abilities for this. But no, he will walk in lacquered ankle boots, turn up his nose, considering himself superior to others, and will think that by leading such a lifestyle (well, it's funny, in the village you don't know what to be proud of), he deserves respect. May 21, 1859 The story of Pavel Petrovich, contrary to the expectations of Arkady, did not arouse sympathy in me, but only neglect and disappointment in this man. Still, despite all his aristocratic manners, he looks like a man who is not deprived of reason. It would seem, you never know for what reasons he can vegetate in the village ... And then suddenly, on you! Female! Mystery! Rejected it! What a grief! Ugh! A person lost to society ... Today I met Fedosya Nikolaevna. An interesting person, different from other women, is not embarrassed. Arkady condemns his father for not taking her as his wife. Does it really matter? No. If only for the peace of mind of Nikolai Petrovich himself. Arkady's father is kind. But he just doesn't know how to run a household. The cattle are bad, the horses are broken, the workers are sloths, the manager is a cheat. And Nikolai Petrovich made me laugh very much when I heard him play the cello. Well, honestly, an adult after all ... June 8, 1859 What a scene this ... dear Pavel Petrovich arranged for! ... Dignity, principles ... And he himself was just waiting for the moment to pounce. Of course, I was touched by the words about Arcadia and about the reasons why young people go to nihilists. Indeed, in some of his words the bitter truth sounded. Indeed, I prefer to close my eyes to some of Arkady's mistakes. He wants to be a nihilist, imitates me, but at heart he is different. There is nothing to breathe in Maryino. Let's go with Arkady to the city, since there is a reason. It’s a pity that it worked so well here, you don’t find it that way with your parents. But the old people need to amuse. June 14, 1859 The city did not impress me. Sitnikov annoys, Kukshina evokes pity, even a drop of disgust. Arkady himself is not happy that he has gone. Tomorrow is the governor's ball. June 15, 1859 It would not be sad to admit it, but I’m not used to lying to myself: this Odintsova excited me like no one else had ever done before. How she behaved, how she looked ... There was a desire to approach her myself, but I held back my impulse. Reproaching himself for the feelings that this woman aroused in me, he spoke of her with cynicism, which jarred Arkady, who was already clouded in his head by this lady. Well, he is not alone ... Tomorrow we'll see what kind of person he is. June 16, 1859 What the hell! I went to Eko at Madame Odintsova's: now I was lost, now I blushed, I spoke a lot, but everything was not on the point. And she listens to all this, but I did not notice any particular interest in her. Ashamed of myself. But this lady is also curious. Let's go with Arkady to Nikolskoye, there I will deal with everything. It's a pity only for their old people, they are waiting ... But nothing, they will wait. June 24, 1859 "The Duchess" - this is what comes to mind at the sight of her house. Everything is so correct. Even too much. This time I can overcome my embarrassment, but still my behavior makes me wonder. Odintsova keeps herself calm and confident. How she froze herself! ... She has an interesting sister. Here in whom life is in full swing! Innocent, simple, but well-mannered. Odintsova says she is a disputant. And indeed, you can argue with her, but there is no enthusiasm, no hobby, passion. Yes, it sparks more from Pavel Petrovich, even if the conversation with him is unpleasant. July 9, 1859 How can she say that she is unhappy ?! She's just playing with me! Heart, stupid heart longs for her ... How I despise myself! All this is nonsense, nonsense! But how good she is ... Hope, hope tears me apart! ... I can't ... I don't want to feel, but I don't have the strength to control myself. And she also flirts! Intellectually, I understand that "you won't get it," but ... How strange it all is! And why then is everyone praising this feeling so much? This is awful! Boredom is her only misfortune, this aristocrat, and I am just a way to unwind. We must leave here. So Timofeich came from his father, they are waiting for me ... Arkady is all with Katerina. Decent couple. If only he would stop looking at Madame Odintsov, he would open his eyes, and he would see Katya not just as a consolation, she is a kind creature. July 10, 1859 I could not restrain myself, I broke! What's the matter with me? Love, did I say so? And she! ... Lured, twisted, forced to confess! Unbearable! How unbearable it all is! And as if something inside hurts. Soul? No, I’m definitely out of my mind. And this is her frightened: "You did not understand me." We must leave here as soon as possible. July 11, 1859 Why is she torturing me? With our questions, words, glances ... But nothing, after breakfast we are leaving. July 12, 1859 We came to my parents. What is everything here, on the one hand, familiar and dear, and on the other - already alien to me. Mother and father are, of course, dear to me. But something's not quite right ... With Arkady in a strained relationship. Even his company strains me. Thoughts are confused, some kind of apathy rolls over. July 14, 1859 What nonsense! We were not expected there at all! And she was not happy with us. Stupidity, honestly. But we did not stay in Nikolskoye for a long time, only a few hours, the atmosphere there is too stifling. July 16, 1859 We arrived in Maryino. I do not interfere with local squabbles. I am engaged in work. On July 27, 1859, Arkady rode away, as he said, to study the mechanism of Sunday schools. But I had no illusions about the real purpose of his trip. I went to Nikolskoye to try to try my luck. Well, let him try, let's see what comes of it. I stayed in Maryino and got down to work even harder. July 31, 1859 Fenichka, dear Fedosya Nikolaevna. This is who it is really easy and simple to talk to. No fantasies, games, but at the same time it can be so interesting. It seems that this is the only person with whom I can (and want!) Communicate so easily. No shyness, trust. How does the heat affect her? Everything will be flushed, and also this drowsy languor in her eyes and laziness throughout her body ... Yes, definitely, there can be no talk of any passion here, the sight of it causes quiet joy and comfort. Oh, how I spoke! Something completely unstuck ... August 4, 1859 Damn it! I could not resist! And he didn't want to hold back. And how sweet it was. Only Pavel Petrovich broke the moment. What kind of man? Duel! What a comedy! At first I did not realize what he was angry with. Apparently he is in love himself. And shoot tomorrow. What nonsense! But I could not refuse, no matter how foolish it was. August 6, 1859 How ugly it all turned out to be just disgusting! An unpleasant story. Delicate aristocrat. How arrogant he was, and scratched himself - immediately fainted. And all to publicity. I didn’t want to hurt him, but how did it happen ... I couldn’t shoot at all, couldn’t I? How offended he was by that! And after that, shame seized him, lay in bed sick - trying to be generous. Ugh! I couldn't look at it. Of course, after such events I had to leave Maryino. I didn’t say goodbye to Fedosya - she scared me like fire, and there’s nothing to it. August 8, 1859 Why did I turn here again? I don’t know myself. To explain yourself to Arkady? But no, this is not so important, a trifle. Because of her? But also no. I have already calmed down, forgotten, I do not feel the past, the madness has passed. I think so. Is it really? Arkady is secretive. No matter. We are tired of each other, tired, tired. Naturally, I want him to be all right, but this is not the goal. What is the purpose of my life? August 9, 1859 We behave with her as if nothing had happened. And was there anything? So, turbidity. She says I'm kind. How ridiculous it is. How foreign it is. Kindness? How absurd it is, unacceptable. Arkady asks Katerina's hand. And why did he hide it? Excellent business for him. And how she reacted to it! I was confused, even angry. Well, a lesson for both her and me. And let Arkady live happily. He is young, passionate, and Katya will hold him in her arms. August 16, 1859 He came to his parents. They were glad to me. First I got down to work, and then I saw how my father's hands were shaking, so I began to help him. Father is quite an old man. He is all happy with me, with my treatment, he applies all the techniques at once, which I advise. So time goes by. August 19, 1859 I went to the autopsy of a typhoid man. Was careless, inattentive, the result - cut himself. At that moment, the old question came to mind: what do I live for? Wouldn't it be better to disappear? Once I cut myself, then so be it, my life is over. And by the way, the district doctor did not find a hellish stone. I will hesitate to go home, and the deed is done. But when I arrived home, I saw my father, but I understood the stupidity of that impulse, but it's too late, if I got infected, nothing will help now. He did not hide the cut from his father. August 22, 1859 No appetite, head tormented by pain and thoughts, fever, chills. Got infected after all. The father is tormented by knowledge, the doctor still, should he not know the symptoms? He said to my mother that he had a cold. I'm not scared. The mind is clear, the thoughts are clear. But the body refuses. August 23, 1859 Well, that delirium has begun. My once firm mind has fallen into disrepair. The disease wins. In a few days I will be lying in my coffin. I spent the whole night in a heavy, half-forgetful slumber. Red dogs are running. The father is right there. But he is probably already real. He did not leave me all night, and sometimes my mother dropped in. How difficult it is to focus your thoughts. While the head is still in my power, I want to do one thing. I asked my father to send the news of my imminent death to Madame Odintsova. I just wanted her to know. She knew that the nihilist Bazarov, who was in love with her, would soon end his existence. This is a selfish act. She will rush here, and I can enjoy her presence for the last time. It would, of course, be easier for her not to know anything. But no matter how stupid the hope is, maybe even my dying look will stir up something in her, “unfreeze” her feelings, make her throw off this cold, indifferent mask. Oh, how pathetic I am! But now what to hide, lie to yourself? It was she who changed, broke my life and myself. And nothing can be done about it, and it's too late. To die with dignity is the whole task, and I cannot cope with that. August 24, 1859 In the morning it got better, my father was happy, but not that important. She arrived. It's hard to write. How good, generous she was, but fearful. Thoughts are confused. I feel bad again. The hour has come. Drowsy. I'll fall asleep and probably won't wake up anymore. I said my "sorry, goodbye", nothing holds. And here are the dogs. Red. I am weak, I ... (further a few words are illegible, a couple of blots and nothing else, Bazarov's life is over)

The path to my heart, or Evgeny Bazarov's Diary in the novel by I. S. Turgenev "Fathers and Sons"

Today I begin my diary, and the impressions after meeting with Nikolai Petrovich are the most common: he is a simple Russian nobleman who sincerely loves and honors his son. He is old-fashioned, so it is not of much interest to me.

But Pavel Petrovich is the embodiment of old views and habits. Why, because of such people, the world is crumbling, it does not allow society to develop! It simply does not fit in his head that the head of state is not yet the “navel of the earth,” and that serving the state, surrendering body and soul, is stupid ....

Acquaintance with Madame Odintsova happened in the most usual way. But she left an indelible mark on my soul. This is a beautiful woman with dignity. Her posture, oh my god! This is something divine! This harmony, this is the ability to keep oneself! I was struck by her behavior. Usually women with her appearance are either spoiled to the point of indecency, or arrogant to the point of impossibility. Yes, I agree, she is a widow, and that explains everything. She really managed to keep her reputation unblemished and did not, like others, throw herself at men, chat with them about all kinds of nonsense and make eyes at them in the hope that someone will fall in love with her and marry. And then the woman explains to everyone that he consoled her, calmed her soul, and she could not sit forever in widows, and she is still not so old, and not so ugly.

Anna Sergeevna ... yes, there is something in her. One gets the impression that she is molded from a completely different dough, she was brought up by a person not of this world. I will need to get to know her better, she is worthy of my attention ...

June 15th. Something is wrong in my soul, I cannot control myself. How could I deny this feeling? And yet, for everyone I will remain the same strict and not recognizing person, I will be the same cold. I see that Arkady is in love with Odintsov. He constantly talks to me about this, but I am silent. I am silent, although I know that I should hint about my feelings in front of him, and he will immediately retreat. I was stupid when I thought that I would never love anyone. Yes, I know that God does not exist, but there is fate, and you never know what she has in store for you. I am severely punished, I must endure this, otherwise I will not be Bazarov, but I will turn into ordinary young people, this smear that melts from beautiful eyes, slender legs and all kinds of nonsense that women so love to flaunt. I agree, they are beautiful, but stupid. But Anna Sergeevna combines the best qualities. Perhaps Arkady loves her, but he could not appreciate her, he is not worthy of her. I want to achieve her, only if I have the courage to confess to her tender feelings, and even more so to propose to her ...

July 20. I shut myself up. I cannot reveal my soul to anyone. It means humiliating yourself, showing yourself weak, and I won't do that. Probably the only person to whom I can open up is Odintsova. But it is to her that my feelings, my thoughts are directed. However, there is a fear of seeing oneself rejected, misunderstood. What if she cannot refuse me and will be with me out of pity, then I will again be humiliated. No, confession is not for me! I will try to restrain myself, but my feelings, no matter how I restrain them, will have to come out, and my patience is already running out ...

August 1. And yet I could not resist ... I confessed to her. Of course, I was not as gentle and verbose as in my heart, I adhered to my usual behavior. However, I did not see the desired reaction in her, she was cold, as befits a worthy woman. My God, my efforts are in vain!

My suffering is not understood. I'm dying! It is no longer unbearable to be with her, I have to leave.

December 25. After much thought and great suffering, I left my love object. I'm going to my parents.

The meeting with my parents comforted me a little, warmed me, but their constant worries are beginning to bother me. They even annoy me to some extent. My thoughts began to return less often to Anna Sergeevna, but I never stopped loving her. I met with her, we talked. But it is clear that she does not love me, she sees in me a friend, like-minded person, but no more. I realized that I would not be with her ...

I was unlucky, my medical work ended in failure, I contracted typhus. So far, the disease has not raged much, but I know that I have not long to live. I will die with honor. I asked my father to send a peasant for Anna Sergeevna. I'm delirious. But will I never see her before I die? Really her lovely features will not flash before my eyes for the last time, it cannot be that her voice does not caress my ears for the last time, her words did not penetrate deep into my heart and did not put everything in its place!

This is a miracle! I saw her the same strict lady, she came to me. However, in her eyes, I did not see that usual cold, but only a feeling of compassion and sadness. But this feeling did not humiliate me, it gave me confidence that she was not indifferent to me. She kind of loved me. Yes, I am dying, but I am dying happy. My soul is pure ...