Book: Prime numbers

A minute the room was so quiet that seemed to have been heard outside the window snowflakes fall and fall to the ground with a quiet ringing, like tiny shards of crystal.

Silence is not always a sign of consent, more often it means mutual misunderstanding.

... Genius, I say... no, it's about talented people say they are talented in everything, but a genius... a Genius, but rather like a space ship, flying at sublight speed to the sole and almost unattainable goal, one that is not visible to the rest of the "progressive humanity." Rocket racing so fast that the surrounding is drained to the pilot in monotone, consider that there's no time...

Every day, <...> every minute and sometimes every second we take a decision - important or unimportant, simple or complex. It's like breathing, you know? People can not breathe, he will die. And live, without making every minute one or the other choice, a person can not also. Otherwise it hardens, like Buridan's ass between two bales of hay. I shall die not from hunger, but from a mental stupor.

... He predicted that he would die twenty-first day, and he spent his whole life in this day of the month hasn't left his bedroom. But on 21 June 1791, Louis and Marie-Antoinette were arrested, on 21 September 1792 France declared a Republic, and on 21 January 1793 the king was executed. Why so many coincidences?

...Often happens: like compare, decide, and then it turns out that didn't have to think, just to poke a finger in one of the options, the result would have been exactly the same.

No, positively, aging is a disease that comes suddenly and as suddenly forgotten: first you the disease is acutely aware of, and then, apparently, it's not that you get used to, but no longer considered an illness. This, they say, the life, and life is not a disease, though, and always ends in fatal...

Then time for me and stopped. Not biological, it is, of course, moves independently of the mind and only in one direction, like a river that is impossible to block the dam and make it change direction. I mean psychological time is flowing like the great river Volga, then suddenly stops, freezes as an ice-bound stream, and sometimes rushing like a mountain stream, picking up on the way, boulders of memories, or even, like a tsunami, sweeping away everything, leaving behind the ruins of the past - the worst ruins in the world, because the bomb destroyed the city can be restored, and broken, destroyed, life will not go nowhere...