Book: Pit. Page 1

No illusions, no embellishments! Here I am! Public woman, public vessel, the cesspool to drain the excess urban lust. Come to me whoever wants, you will not meet failure in this my service. But for a second of lust in a hurry - you pay money, revulsion, disease and shame. And that's all. No one side of human life where the basic main truth shone with such a monstrous, ugly naked brightness without any shadow of human lvania and samooborony.

But, you know, it is very much boring and disgusting. Like those of flies, which now represented the Professor. Slapelis for a moment on the windowsill, and then in some stupid surprise scratched his hind legs back and shattered forever. A plant here love?.. So for this I am the hero of their romance. I'm ugly, women are timid, shy and polite. They crave here wild passions, bloody jealousy, tears, poisonings, beatings, sacrifices, in a word, hysterical romanticism.

We immediately see an owl in flight, good fellow snot!

The fate of Russian prostitutes - Oh, what a tragic, pathetic, bloody, funny and silly way! Here, everything is aligned: Russian God, Russian latitude and reckless Russian despair in a fall, Russian backwardness, Russian naivete, Russian patience, the Russian shamelessness. All of them, which you take to the bedrooms, - look, look at them carefully, because they are the children, because they're all eleven years. Fate pushed them into prostitution, and since they live in a strange, magical, toy life, not developing, not enriched by the experience, naive, gullible, capricious, not knowing what to say that will make half an hour - just as children are. This bright and funny childishness I have seen the lowest the oldest of the girls, worn-out and mutilated as a cab horse. And not dying in them, never this helpless pity, it is useless empathy for human suffering...

But I hronicheskaya come across a short article about how somewhere in France executed a murderer. The Prosecutor who was present at the last toilet of the criminal, sees that he was wearing boots on his bare feet, and - the blockhead! - recalls: "And the stockings then?" And he looked at him and thoughtfully says: "is it Worth it?" Understand: these two little replicas of me as a stone on the skull! Immediately appeared in front of me all the horror and all the stupidity of violent death...

But screaming does not scare anybody and will not catch. You know, there pogovorochka: a lot of screeching and little wool.

... prostitution is one of the greatest disasters of mankind, and also agree that this evil is not to blame women, and we men, because the demand gives birth to offer. And, therefore, if, after drinking the extra glass of wine, I still, despite their beliefs, going to prostitutes, then I do a triple meanness: the unhappy stupid woman I was subjected to for his filthy ruble the most humiliating form of bondage to humanity, because, by hiring an hour or two public woman for your nasty lust, I do justify and support prostitution, and finally, it's despicable to their own conscience and thought. And before logic.

No pride!.. Ham comes in, buys you like a piece of beef, hires as a driver, the going rate for love and you lost it: "Oh, lover! Oh, unearthly passion!" Ugh!

... sometimes, very rarely, flourished in the manure tender, flaming and pure love; sometimes women are even left with a loved one institution, but almost always came back.

Not sin - not repent.

Among Russian intellectuals, as many have already noticed, there are a decent number of strange people, true children of the Russian country and culture, who would be able heroically, without flinching a muscle, to look straight in the face of death, who are able for the sake of ideas patiently endure unimaginable privations and sufferings, equal to torture, but these people are lost from the arrogance of critics, shrivel shout laundress, and a police station included with anxious and timid longing.

Powerfully affected by the corrupting influence of the hundreds of millions of easy money. This waterfall of gold as if overwhelmed, whirled and sunk the whole city. The number of thefts and murders increased with startling rapidity. The police, collected in augmented dimensions, lost and knocked down. But later, abortuses rich bribes, she began to resemble a well-fed boa, inevitably sleepy and lazy. People were killed for no reason what so myself.

Man is born for great joy, for ceaseless creation, in which he is God, for broad, free, unconstrained in any way love to all: to tree, to sky, to man, to dog, to the sweet, gentle, beautiful land.

Condemn a hungry thief who stole a tray patockova a loaf of bread, but if the Bank Manager had spent a million on someone else's trotters and cigars, then to improve his fate.