Book: The sorcerer. Page 4

What I was saying to the crucified Christ? Why did You leave me? And the man was repeating something less touching, less pathetic, and therefore less humane, but much more meaningful. He was talking to me from inside the alien world. Where was I, life had no price. It was valued too high and therefore was priceless. Where he lived, only one thing had a comparable price. Eleftheria - freedom. She was the stronghold, the essence - above reason, above logic, above culture, above story. She was not a God, for in the earthly knowledge of God is not manifested. But being unknowable deity she confirmed. She gave you the unconditional right to renunciation. On free choice. It is - or what took its appearance - was overshadowed and possessed of Vimala and void the German and Austrian warriors. It embraced all manifestations of freedom - from the worst to the best. The freedom to escape the battle under Neapel. Freedom to fight with the primitive God seydvarre. Freedom to gut rural dev and neutered boys pliers. She rejected morality, but born was the hidden essence of things; she allowed all were allowed except one - except for any prohibitions.

I fell into the mortal sin of Adam, the oldest, to the most monstrous form of male self-love: Alison has imposed this role the Allison, which found it convenient. Not debunked even. Was rasulovich. What she said about that muleteer? He deserved at least two packs.

We feel that we live only because the prisoners at Belsen died. We feel that our world exists only because of the thousands of worlds die in the supernova. That smile means: could be, but there is.

Here, on the border, falling leaves. And though it's just savages and you're a thousand miles away, always two cups on my table.

So that's how it happens: two hundred one, cliché words - and the end.

This grey, hard, ever-trusting eyes, seek the truth, made me lie.

Know did not think: maybe you're such a pig that once again to contact you - idiocy. But forget you I can not even with those whom you cannot hold a candle to.

Each of us is an island. Otherwise, we would long ago have gone mad. Between the Islands boats, fly airplanes, the wires of phones, we were talking on the radio, you name it. But they remain Islands. Which can sink or crumble to dust.

In each of our lives there comes a moment of rotation. Be alone with yourself. Not what will be. And so, what is and will be always. You are too young to understand it. You have become. Not abide.
Maybe.
- Not possibly, but exactly.
- And if you slip this... a moment of rotation? But it seemed to me that in my life this moment has been: the silence of the forest, horn of the Athens boat, the black throat gun barrels.
- Merge with the mass. Only a few notice that the moment has arrived. And behave accordingly.

I went through several interviews. And if I wasn't going to show that puppy enthusiasm, which we require from the novice official will not be accepted.

Or you look around and come to despair, or come to despair and look around. In the first case you impose hands on his own body; the second for the soul.

Five seconds into the man can't fall in love, but the feeling of love can arouse in the soul, and the five-second encounter.

Here it is, the truth. Not the hammer and sickle. Not in the stars and stripes. Not in the crucifixion. Not in the sun. Not in gold. Not Yin and Yang. In the smile.

Alison was always female; unlike many English girls, she never cheated on her floor. She was not beautiful, and often even cute. But connecting to its merits (the fine figure of a boy, perfect choice of clothing, graceful gait), as it was erected in degree. She's walking along the sidewalk, stops crossing the street, heading to my car; a terrific impression. But when she's around, in the other seat can be seen in her features a certain incompleteness, as if have indulged child. But quite close it was just made at times seemed like a real freak, but only one movement, a grimace, a turn of the head, and the ugliness is gone.