Book: Time-no-wait

Remember, guys, when happiness will smile to you, do not yawn, hold onto it with all his might. What happiness, if you miss it? Grab it by the tail! How old am I in this country - and was waiting for happiness rolled. Here we go finally. Now I will not let go. Well, good night you!

In the back of his mind incessantly sounded tempting voice of life itself, which said to him persistently about his power, that he can accomplish more than others, that he was destined to win where they failed to succeed where they face death. That was the narcissistic life, proud to excess of health and strength, to deny the frailty and decay, drunken Holy faith in yourself enchanted his daring dream. And persistent, vague whispers, it clearly and distinctly, like the sound of the trumpet, the voice suggested to him that somewhere, sometime, somehow he will reach Happiness, you love them, subordinate to their will, impose his seal upon it.

Happiness is capricious deity that so often turns against its most ardent fans, striking wise and benefit the foolish Happiness, which century are looking for people, hoping to bend it to his will.

As one witty speaker at a Banquet at the Alta club Pacific: "thieves Have dignity, and that they differ from honest people." Here's what it is. So. These newly-minted "Superman" is just a gang of thugs who have the audacity to preach to their victims code of morals, which themselves are not considered. Under this code, a person can be trusted only as long as he is forced to keep his word.
"Thou shalt not steal" - mandatory only for honest workers. They, the supermen, above any of the commandments: they can steal and the bigger the theft, the greater esteem they enjoyed among his associates. As Harnish delved deeper into the game, the picture became clearer. Despite the fact that each robber tries to Rob another, the gang is well organized. It actually holds in his hands the whole political machinery of society, ranging from a congressional candidate of a provincial district to the United States Senate. It makes laws that give her the right to steal. She exercises this right by means of sheriffs, Federal police, local forces, regular army and the judiciary. Everything goes like clockwork. Superman nothing and nobody to fear, except for his fellow bandit. People don't count. This is just trash; the masses are made up of inferior breed, which does not cost anything to cheat. The robbers pulled the strings, and when robbery of the workers for some reason goes enough smartly, they rush at each other. Harnish liked to philosophize, but the philosopher was not. Harnish liked to philosophize, but the philosopher was not. In the harsh, primitive land, where he lived until now, he didn't need books for understanding life; but here, in the new conditions, life seemed to him a clear and simple He did not succumb to her temptations, and I could see that under the veneer she's as primitive as in the Yukon. People here and there from the same cloth. The same passions, the same aspirations. He saw that the game is played by age-old regulations, and he participated in it along with others. The fate of humanity, hopelessly besotted robber casuistry, did not worry him: such is the natural order of things. He knew the futility of the human effort. Such is life, and life is a cruel thing. People in the civilized world Rob because of the way he made their nature. They Rob as spontaneously as scratch cat, hungry, exasperated by the frost.

Life is a liar, a deceiver. It deceives all living. She lied to him, Elam Harnish, one of the most successful, the most perfect of his creatures. He's nothing - just a vulnerable lump of muscles and nerves, crawling in the mud in pursuit of gold, a dreamer, a conceited man, a player who catches a glimpse of - and is not. Imperishable and invulnerable only dead nature, everything that has neither muscles nor nerves - sand, soil and gravel, the mountains and the lowlands, and the river, which from year to year, from century to century is covered with ice and newly cleared from it. In essence, what this sneaky fraud! A game with marked cards. Those who are dying don't win, and everyone dies. Who is the winner? Not even the Life of the great sharper, luring players, this always in bloom churchyard, never-ending funeral procession.

Happiness is a violent, insane monster, holder of the universal joint, grinning, shuffles the cards. It picks up a deck marked for cheating the game of life. There is no place for justice. Helpless, weak babies are not even asked whether they wanted to participate in the game. They do not leave a choice. Fortune throws them into life, bringing to the card table and says: "Play, damn you, play!" And they, poor things, are trying hard. For some, the game ends motor yachts and mansions, some alms - house or a bed in a hospital for the poor. Alone again and again go with the same maps until the end of his days making wine in a deserted thicket, hoping to make money on false teeth and a coffin. Other early out of the game because they inherited the cards led to suicide, to starvation, to long-term, serious illness. Someone on the cards bring the Royal San, unlimited, and undeserved power; otherwise they promise high ranks, untold wealth, and the other the shame and reproach, the third - wine and women. That to him, that he was lucky, he pulled a good card. However, it is still unknown how it will end. If anyone or anything spoil his game. Happiness, the mad God might be purposely luring him, a fatal combination of circumstances, and a month later a gang of robbers will be dancing a warlike dance on the ruins of his financial Empire. Today, it can get a tram or a building will fall down sign and blow his head off. And always lurking disease is one of the most insidious whims of Happiness? Who knows? The microbe of putrid poison or one of the thousands of other microbes would attack him and ruin. That doctor Bascom, Lee Bascom who just last week stood beside him, talking, laughing - the embodiment of youth, health, vitality, and in three days it twisted: pneumonia, rheumatism of the heart and God knows what else. And how he suffered before death! His cries were heard for the entire quarter. Horrible! Harnish and now could not recall it without a shudder. When his turn comes? Who knows! Well, for the time being it remains only to cast cards that are in his hands, the cards of these three: fight, revenge, and cocktails. Happiness is watching him play and bares his teeth.

He stuck to his own simplistic theories that everything is a gamble. God is something impalpable, wayward, headstrong, called Happiness. The risk starts right from the birth: who is destined to be born a fool or a robber? Card is dealt, Happiness, and innocent babies will choose to hand those cards. Complaining, complaining is useless. Here's your card, and like it or not, and play - anyway, you're a hunchback or slim, ugly or handsome, idiot or genius. It is vain to seek justice. The majority of players falls into the category of fools; to few, thanks to a good map, become robbers. The draw of the cards - this is the life. Assemblage of players - society. Card table - land. Rate creature comforts, from the piece of bread to big red car. And ultimately happy players and one unhappy waiting for death and oblivion. Hard, of course, stupid and disadvantaged - their loss is the foregone conclusion. But the better he got to know the other, those who seemed to win more often it took the doubt: is it really so much do they win? After all, they too are doomed to death and oblivion, and their life isn't worth much. This bickering wild beasts together: the strong trample the weak and the strong, as he was convinced by the example Doucet, Letton and Guggenhammer, is not the best. He remembered his humble comrades in the Arctic. They were stupid and disadvantaged - those who work and sweat and who Rob the fruits of his labor, like the old woman who makes the wine in the SONOMA mountains; but they are far truer, more honest, more noble than the people who Rob them. It turns out that win-just crooks, traitors, scoundrels. But even they are not masters of their own destiny, they are only playing the cards they got.

Anger possessed him with such force that it broke the lust for murder in his mind flashed a crazy plot and bloody massacre of the betrayed his people. That's what I had to do this a spring chicken, not to commit suicide. To put a gun to their heads. Harnish opened his suitcase and pulled out the heavy colt. He took a large finger guard and eight times in a row, pulled out the stopper; eight rounds, one after the other, fell on the table; he again filled the shop, and sent one bullet in the chamber and, keeping the trigger, put the gun on the fuse. Then put the gun in the side pocket of the coat, ordered another Martini and sat down again in the chair. Thus passed an hour, but Harnish wasn't already smiling.

He was afraid of women because he did not understand them and did not understand them, because they were afraid.

But such was his nature. The money is just chips in the game. It was drawn to the game itself.

All is nothing more than a game, the rate at which life.

Love is the biggest trump cards.

Women do small and require just. Only look at them once again, and bind you, tied to her skirt.

Man is endowed with the ability to reason, so he looks back and forth.