She often discussed life with her neighbors, spoke a great deal about everything; but all, herself included, only complained; no one explained why life was so hard and burdensome.
And now her son sat before her; and what he said about her--his eyes, his face, his words--it all clutched at her heart, filling her with a sense of pride for her son, who truly understood the life of his mother, and spoke the truth about her and her sufferings, and pitied her.
Mothers are not pitied.

She knew it.

She did not understand Pavel when speaking about matters not pertaining to herself, but all he said about her own woman's existence was bitterly familiar and true.

Hence it seemed to her that every word of his was perfectly true, and her bosom throbbed with a gentle sensation which warmed it more and more with an unknown, kindly caress.
"What do you want to do, then ?" she asked, interrupting his speech.
"Study and then teach others.

We workingmen must study.