Book: Seven days of creation

- Do you like this young man?
- What?
- Don't play dumb! The one that sent Lily, one with whom you spent the night.
- Drank a glass, and that's all. What?
- And the fact that I don't like it.
- Me too, I assure you. It's disgusting!
- So I say: you like him.
- Nothing like that! He's a vulgar, arrogant, cocky.
- God, she's already in love! - said Ren, raising his hands to the ceiling.

She appreciated this blind world that seemed mysterious to those who fancy themselves all-seeing, though, and misses so many important.

If all this was done, at least once a day - allow yourself a smile - you only imagine the incredible epidemic of happiness covering the ground!

For the truth there are special moments?
- Yes, there are!
In this case, without assistance I cannot do: sincerity is much more difficult than I thought.

Flap of a butterfly's wings in Asia creates a movement of air, which is gradually growing, it can cause devastating cyclone off the coast of Florida.

Now I'm pretty close eye, to see you, pretty to stop breathing, to feel your scent, pretty face to the wind to catch your breath. Listen: where I am, I will hear the echoes of your laughter, to see the smile in your eyes, catches the echo of your voice.

She stopped, her body stiffened, she screamed his name. A cry of pain, the force of which shook her, broke the silence, filled the depths of despair. No one noticed how the time had stopped.

Don't understand what's happening to me, nothing at all do not understand, only know that with you I am well, though these words are not in my vocabulary.

Throw unnecessary thoughts, you will avoid many disappointments!

Three years I only hear from you: "love", "love". What's the point of your stories, if you're in the first day of filming refused the role of fairy Princess.

Only children and old people see something that does not notice most of the people: the state of "maturity" is wasted time!... senile lines is a beautiful writing of life, in which children learn to read their dreams.

- You don't love the sun?
- Why, very much! Sunburn, skin cancer, death from heat stroke, choking from the tie, the woman's horror at the thought of soggy makeup, rampant colds from the air, rips a hole in the ozone layer, increasing pollution, loss of animals from thirst, not to mention choking the elderly. So sorry, the sun invented is not who everyone thinks.

- Miss much?
- Your street drove sixty-four cars, of which nineteen green.

With you done this before: you think you're destined loneliness that room where you sit locked up, unravelling, that your clothes are dilapidated in one night that all the mirrors are reflecting your grief, the only audience which is you, you bad, are you sure, that no one likes you and that you don't like that all this emptiness is the nothingness of your own imagination?