Book: Rebecca. Page 3

I've wanted to come back to catch the disappeared a moment, but I immediately thought that, even we turn back, it will be different, even the sun in the sky will never be the same, and the shadows will be different...

A grown man lying without remorse, without losing the tranquillity and cheerfulness, but in my youth, even a minor deception burn the language, and you nail yourself to the pillory.

All the husbands of beautiful women jealous and many of them play the role of Othello. They are not worthy of censure and pity. Jealousy is a kind of stinginess. Why can't they share their wives with others instead of killing them. Because the woman is not the motor, it is not wear from use. On the contrary, the more it goes, the easier it operated.

What is humiliating to be young.

Happiness is not a prize that rewarded it is the property of thinking, a state of mind.

Oh, if someone figured out a way to keep memories, throw ' em in a bottle like perfume. Ensure that they are never exhausted. Never faded. And when you want, take the plug out and re-experiencing that moment.