Book: The key from the yellow metal. Page 4

I have a rule: if the events no longer like, need to leave immediately. Easy to say, but devilishly difficult to implement, and whenever I do it, I mentally put a big, shiny "five".

No matter how things are in reality, what happens, happens, and what happened, happened, and what the hell's the difference how it looked from the outside. Just my personal feelings and impressions have any meaning, they are experience, and experience is the only property that you can take if not to the grave, at least on its edge. Look - useful. Well, you never know.

Great, now I have your number and I can call you dogie winter evenings when all you want to hear a warm word. And you speak to me, "heater", "stove", "iron", "mitten", "steam heating"...

"I'm needed elsewhere" is much better than "Goodnight".

... your future is in your desires and actions, and the main tool to influence the past - memory.

I respect the charters of other monasteries, at least in those cases when I like their walls.

The well-known case when the ground no longer seem reliable, the only way to put on this very ground and even ass, such a change of position gives confidence sometimes.

While the process is interesting, it is possible to do without additional meaning.

... apparently I am some kind of wormhole, which as a magnet attracts any bullshit, and now, on the contrary, pushes away.

If I tell my parents that Prague evil sorcerer went on the hunt for their scalps, Renata peaks of delight, will bake pies, wear your most beautiful skirt and with impatience will wait for the fateful meeting. And Carl, you may treat the matter seriously and get to a safe place all their hurdy-gurdy. Unless, of course, go upstairs to play [the organ] and don't forget about your laudable intention. And he will most likely move. And play. And forget. As to evacuation, no idea.

Let him play, let him. Let the scares, albeit confusing, if not explained the rules, I whispered, leaning against the warm sun stones týn Church. Only would have continued to play, if only He is not tired, though not change your mind, not distracted by anything else, because I don't want to live otherwise. And, it seems, can not.

Nice man, but done for, unfortunately.

Men her interest is only in the position of "pants buttoned, hands at the seams, in the eyes of selfless devotion."

The terrible truth about me is that I'm not too fond of coffee. However, I drink it by the buckets. It's not even the invigorating effect of caffeine, which is, strictly speaking, is required only in the mornings, and even then not always. The taste of the coffee calms me down and tries on with life, returns to the feet forever trying to get out from under them solid ground and gives life at least some semblance of sense. In short, I don't like coffee, but when I do it, I'm almost happy, and that's all that matters.