Book: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead

For a handful of coins can have a private and, so to speak, there is no end in view. The rape of the Sabine women - or rather, sabinyanki - or rather, Alfred. (over his shoulder) get your skirt on, Alfred!

They are two sides of the same coin. Or one side or two, because we've got so much.

Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over... Death is not something that... Death is not... It's the lack of presence... Nothing more... the Endless time, during which there is no return.. This is the door into the void... where you can't see... and when there is wind, it does not produce noise.

An artist can become in two ways. The first is to do what all considered art. Second: to get everyone to call art what you do.

Life is a gamble, with a negligible chance. If she bet you wouldn't take it.

Man talking to himself, but with meaning, no more insane than a man talking the other, but carries a nonsense.

You don't understand the humiliation of it - to be denied the very thing that makes our existence viable - that somebody is watching...

- My honoured Lord!
- Yes, my friend!
- How are you?
- Obsessed with.
- Really? How?
- I've changed.
- Inside or outside?
- And - I.
- It is clear. (Pause.) Not much new there.

- Shall we do some questions?
- And what does it mean?
- Practice!
- No question! Single - zero.
- Disgusting.
Why?
- I haven't started yet.
- Not a question. Two - zero.
- Does that count?
What?
Does that count?
Point. For the repetition. Three - zero. Con.

When someone takes your hand and leads like a child - even though you long ago lost its innocence - it's like you reward, like getting an incremental portion of childhood, and just when you least expect it - like a prize for good behavior - or that never had a childhood...

Your every act, albeit insignificant, generates another, knows where, who knows someone, and the one - third and so on, a vicious circle. So keep your eyes peeled and all ears. Be careful and follow the instructions. And everything will be fine.

- Just the two of us. Is that enough?
As an audience, disappointing. As lovers - perfect.

- What you specializiruetsya?
Tragedy, sir. Murder and disclosures, universal and particular, the denouement as sudden and relentless melodrama quick change on all levels including the suggestive. We introduce you to a world of intrigue and illusion... clowns, if you like, murderers - we can introduce you to spirits and battles, duels, heroes and villains, the suffering of lovers in the poems; rapier, vampires or both, by all means faithless wives and raping virgins for naturalism allowance - however, this is related to realism, which has its own rates. Something I overclocked, huh?

We burn bridges, which here rush, not having other evidence of their movement, but memories of the smell of smoke and assumptions that it brought tears.
(We pass on our bridges and burn them behind him. Our way forward remains only a memory of the smell of smoke and that once our eyes were full of tears.)