The last years of the life of Count Lev Tolstoy were marked by the death of Vániechka, the youngest and dearest of his children, excommunication and finally the flight of his house of Yasnaia Polaina, at eighty-two, caused by an unsustainable marriage. As in his youth, in his old age Tolstoy also conferred on his diary a primordial place, since he was convinced that it allowed him to deepen and forced him to sincerity, frankness, and honesty with himself. "When you write a diary," he said, "one immediately perceives anything that is false." Over time, Tolstoy's diaries became a melting pot of his philosophical and moral doctrines; however, intimate, personal elements, not intended to be read by others, never ceased to be present, intertwined with reflections and judgments openly intended to be diffused. The magnificent selection of Selma Ancira encourages the reading, entertaining, instructive and exciting, from the last years of Lev Tolstoy's life in intense pre-revolutionary Russia.