Book: Gift

If miracles could be written using chemical formulas, people believed in them more readily.

It is more than money, more than anything else. Time cannot be earned again. The past hour, the past weeks has not come back.

Falling is the inevitable companion of childhood.

But if you're dead, believe me, it will be certainly not your, anyone, not just yours. And understand all that you leave behind, you have others.

For others, the revival took on different forms.
For Alison's awakening was the fear of getting pregnant at the age of sixteen, forcing her to become more discriminating;
for Patterson the awakening was the birth of his first child, the event of this newly opened world and illuminated it with a new light that influenced all the decisions taken by Mr Patterson in the future.
For Alfred the awakening was the financial collapse of his father, when he lost millions. Alfred turned twelve then, and this event forced him one year to study at public school, and although the welfare of the family rather quickly then it was restored and none of my friends, whose opinion family valued' never found out about it temporary financial difficulty, this period forever changed the worldview of Alfred and his attitude to people.
The awakening of Ruth took place during the summer holidays, when entering one house, she caught her husband in bed with their Polish nanny.
... Lucy woke up when she was only five and when looking from the stage into the hall, she saw her mother, and next to it - empty space.
So the awakening can be very diverse, and not all of them are important.

People, like houses, kept their secrets. Not the secrets inhabit them, not they themselves live in secrets. They hold secrets, firmly pressing them against her breast, language invests them in a lie, to accidentally spit out. But as time goes on, the truth wins, truth prevails. She's twisting, writhing, tossing and turning, growing, work, lie on the language no longer able to hide her further, and there comes a time when you have to pronounce the words, spit them, giving freedom thunderous truth. Time always plays into the hands of the truth, side by side with her and supporting her.

How much cleaner and will be easier to go through life, if we all stop to look around, and focus on yourself!

To be engaged there is nothing wrong until it leads to distraction.

The line between rudeness and light flirting becomes extremely ephemeral, when drunk.

From what I have seen he lost the gift of speech, the gift of this slipped out of his mouth, grabbed under his arm words and sped away, giggling gleefully.

At the tip of the chain hanging clock on the dial which is counted the time. We hear the soft ticking of the watch, blowing up the silence, we see the dial, but often do not feel the run time. Each passing second leaves his mark on each of us; she goes and goes quietly, modestly, melts in the air, as steam of hot Christmas pudding. The abundance of time makes us heat, time is running out and we become chilly. Time, it is more precious than gold, more diamonds, more expensive oil, more than all earthly treasures. Time we never have enough, we win it in war with ourselves, and therefore we should spend it wisely. It is not Packed in a beautiful box, do not tie with ribbon, will not put under the tree at Christmas. Give it to someone impossible, but to give, to share with someone you can.