Anna Sergeevna was a fairly strange creature, Having no prejudices, not even having any strong beliefs, she was not accustomed to yield to anything and was not on her way to discovering anything. She had a clear idea of many things, many things interested her, and nothing satisfied her completely. What is more, she scarcely sought complete satisfaction. Her mind was keenly inquiring and indifferent at one and the same time because her doubts never diminished to the point of forgetfulness and never increased to the point of causing alarm. Had she not been rich and independent, she would have perhaps thrown herself into the struggle and come to know the meaning of passion. But she had an easy life, although she had occasional bouts of boredom, and she went on spending day after day without hurry and only rarely experiencing excitement. Rainbow hues would now and then shine before her eyes, but she felt relieved when they subsided and didn’t regret their passing.
P.s. Oxford World’s Classics Hardcovers (the particular volume I am reading) are so cool. Slim, neat, yet elegant. They make is so easy to read classic literature without carrying around a weighty tome. And yes, I am a sucker for these type of books.