For what matters in life is not whether we receive a round of applause; what matters is whether we have the courage to venture forth despite the uncertainty of acclaim.

• From A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles

That sense of loss is exactly what we must anticipate, prepare for, and cherish to the last of our days; for it is only our heartbreak that finally refutes all that is ephemeral in love.

From A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles

For most of us, the late 1920s were not characterized by a series of momentous events. Rather, the passage of those years was like the turn of a kaleidoscope.

The bottom of a kaleidoscope’s cylinder lie shards of colored glass in random arrangement; but thanks to a glint of sunlight, the interplay of mirrors, and the magic of symmetry, when one peers inside what one finds is a pattern so colorful, so perfectly intricate, it seems certain to have been designed with the utmost care. Then by the slightest turn of the wrist, the shards begin to shift and settle into a new configuration—a configuration with its own symmetry of shapes, its own intricacy of colors, its own hints of design. So it was in the city of Moscow in the late 1920s.

From A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles

Now that was the life of the Boyarsky—a battle that must be waged with exacting precision while giving the impression of effortlessness, every single night of the year.

• From A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles

“Yes, sir. But I don’t simply want to learn the languages. I want to understand those who speak them. And most especially, I would like to understand their privileged classes—for that’s who remains at the helm.

I would like to understand how they view the world; what they are likely to count as a moral imperative; what they would be prone to value and what to disdain. It’s a matter of developing certain diplomatic skills, if you will. But for a man in my position, it is best to foster one’s skills . . . discreetly.”

“How do you propose that I help?”

“Simple. Dine with me once a month in this very room. Speak with me in French and English. Share with me your impressions of Western societies. And in exchange . . .” Glebnikov let his sentence trail off, not to imply the paucity of what he could do for the Count, but rather to suggest the abundance.

• From A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles