"Literature is news that STAYS news."

Alexander Pushkin (1799 – 1837)

Наедине с своей душой
Был недоволен сам собой.
И поделом: в разборе строгом,
На тайный суд себя призвав,
Он обвинял себя во многом:
Во-первых, он уж был неправ,
Что над любовью робкой, нежной
Так подшутил вечор небрежно.

Alone with his soul
Most unhappy was he with what he had made of his role
And, rightly so: for when he called his case
Before his own secret court and he did appear,
There was much that he would not deny:
First, it was an error
With such a love, so timid and gentle,
To mock such sweetness so casually.
— Евгений Онегин