Book: The glass bead game. Page 3

Communication between diplomats is always a struggle, even if it adopts a user friendly form.

Every science is, among other things, streamlining, simplifying, digesting indigestible for the mind.

Each of us is struggling, vulnerable position, because everyone knows that what he was fighting against, has a right to exist and its undeniable merits.

I lost myself so much that it couldn't handle it himself and needed help.

The history of the world can be seen as a development and progress, and with the same success it is possible not to see it as nothing but decadence and meaninglessness.

I think I never really saw as it is beautiful. Probably because I first look at everything as something I need to say goodbye and leave.

Didn't know cheering for him from the bliss of these moments, or cry because they are gone.

Not all the friends of youth rise to the occasion at every meeting.

World history is a race in time, running a race for profit, power, treasure, here the question is who will have enough forces, luck or meanness not to miss the right moment. And accomplishment in the field of spirit, culture, art is the exact opposite, that every time the escape from captivity of time, out of the nothingness of its instincts and its rigidity in a very different plane, in the sphere of the timeless, released from time to time, the divine, is completely unhistorical and anti-historical.

World history is endless, useless and boring report about the violence perpetrated by the strong over the weak.

Despair God sends us not to kill us, he sends us his to arouse in us a new life.

The snow is already gone, stood wet fields, along streams and ditches in some places has already broken through the green of bursting buds and the first catkins on bare bushes enveloped everything in a greenish haze, the air was filled with all sorts of smells, the smell of life itself, full of contradictions: it smelled of damp earth, rotting leaves and young shoots, it seemed, here-here will be heard and the smell of violets, for violets although it was still early. We went to the elderberry bushes, and dotted with tiny buds, the leaves have not yet sprouted, and when I cut branches, my nose hit the bitter-sweet smell. He seemed absorbed, merged together, and many times strengthened all the other smells of spring. I was stunned, I sniffed the knife, a hand, a branch... It was the smell of elderberry juice, irresistibly spreading around. We didn't say a word, but my companion for a long time and gazed thoughtfully at the branch and a few times brought it to his nose and began to be, and it is about something you said the smell. Each genuine events, give rise to our experiences, has its own magic, and in this case my experience was that when we walked on the Champs meadows when I breathed in the smells of damp earth and sticky buds, and spring fell on me and filled with happiness, and now it has concentrated, has acquired the power of magic in fortissimo smell of elderflower, becoming sensual character. Even if the then my little adventure, my feelings on this would have ended, the smell of elder, I would never be able to forget; rather, each new meeting with him until the last of my days would Wake in me the memories of that first meeting, when I first consciously experienced this smell.

The fact that yesterday only, charms full,
Waking mind and soul care
Suddenly deprived of sense,
Faded, faded and faded.

For to sacrifice love of truth, intellectual honesty, loyalty, laws and methods of the spirit for the sake of any other interests, be it even the interests of the country, is treason.