To set the scene, Pierre is in a conversation with his old friend Prince Andrei about their futures. Pierre has just finished his education in Europe and is having a hard time choosing a profession. Prince Andrei is newly married and is joining the Russian army to fight Napoleon's invading army.

‘never, never marry, my dear fellow! That’s my advice: never marry till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing—or all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be wasted on triles. Yes! Yes! Yes! don’t look at me with such surprise. If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future you will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed except the drawing-room where you will be ranged side by side with a court lackey and an idiot! . . . But what’s the good? . . .’ and he waved his arm. pierre took of his spectacles, which made his face seem diferent and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at his friend in amazement.

‘My wife’, continued prince andrei, ‘is an excellent woman, one of those rare women with whom a man’s honour is safe; but, O God, what would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the irst and only one to whom I mention this, because I like you.

It continues :

‘You don’t understand why I say this,’ he continued, ‘but it is the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career,’ said he (though pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), ‘but Bonaparte when he worked went step by step towards his goal. He was free, he had nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself up with a woman, and like a chained convict you lose all freedom! and all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and torments you with regret. drawing-rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality—these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know nothing and am it for nothing. Je suis très aimable et très caustique,’1 continued prince andrei, ‘and at anna pavlovna’s they listen to me. and that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and those women . . . If you only knew what they are, toutes les femmes distinguées,2 and women in general! My father is right. Selish, vain, stupid, trivial in everything—that’s what women are when you see them in their true colours! when you meet them in society it seems as if there were something in them, but there’s nothing, nothing, nothing! no, don’t marry, my dear fellow; don’t marry!’ concluded prince andrei.