Book: The stars are cold toys

I did you can't prove that I'm not lying. No way. I really am a stranger to you people. Someone else's blood. And love... it can not be measured by any instrument. Do not apply help with printing.

I too loved you. I was afraid to admit it. It is very difficult to dare to be Frank... especially when you love. What is the difference in the end, what's the difference...

- It's very easy to decide on meanness - quietly Hromov. Especially when you yourself admit that it's despicable.

- Tactful he is a man, after all... ' whispered my ex's grandfather, when we were alone. - Broken, grated, life twisted-vercheny... and tactful.

- Hyperspace is also zero... I don't know why I said that. - The great nothing that fall... which disappear. Mary, you asked if the jump to an orgasm? No, not similar. More like death.

After all, will become worse and worse. We are degrading. Rapidly, irrevocably. Turn into a race of idiots.

Do not confuse utility with worth.

- She's just a crazy, old woman that... have been here Forever - and stick to the astronauts. With the questions, "what's in the stars"... "what will become of us". Sick...
I looked him in the eye. Honest eyes, just very young. Even my younger and more naive.
- She could be a normal one, Sergeant? - I asked.

Every step, every word changes those around. And the road to hell is pave with good intentions only, and the principle of the lesser evil, standing on the arms of regressors, sometimes so seductive and enticing.

- I am a historian. Was a historian, or rather... Heard that story - the most important of the Sciences?
I don't remember. But believe in the word.
- So, it is critical because threat. Sometimes... sometimes dangerous to dig too deep. Especially to say that dug.

In the morning, people come up with more correct ideas than in the evening.

I too loved the Land. Liked our funny world. And our unfortunate country - always loved more than the Earth. Your house and loved more than the country. Because only so is love, it consists of a small particle of something funny and silly, from the entrance, where you first kissed, from the yard, where for the first time got into a fight, out of work, in which they found themselves... freedom is Not important, Peter. Love...

The stars are cold toys. We do not hold them in his hands.

Our poor tired brains good to believe that we love and are loved. The mother loves the son, loves the birthplace of a citizen, a friend loves you. And actually... Daniel spat through the bars, smiled, ...it is either instinct or calculation. Usually a mixture of both. We know in fact that our value is determined only by the ability to work. To benefit others and society. Something that always can not continue, understand. Here are insured... love. From old age, from sickness, from sadness...