Book: The love for three zuckermann. Page 1

But it's just drawn in the sky, and it is important in the world what is happening here and now. The rest is scenery. The universe exists in us, and only us. All galaxies and quasars, offsets, holes, angels and gods are not out there somewhere - but it is here. If a person will not be his universe. There will probably other, but not with us and not for us.

Our God (if there is one) - not a physicist.
God is rather an artist - and a great laugh. Not to say bully of the group "War" who created the Universe to write it a dirty word.
Each of his jokes becomes an insurmountable serious for those who want to know Him through physics and I would say, concluded a particularly cruel sarcasm. Because you can go to him and through the door of physics, only to fly to the door handle will have fifteen billion years, and then - if you can accelerate to the speed of light.

Pushkin has a poem "the Prophet".
In childhood, I must say, I did not take this work seriously because it was present in the school curriculum - which includes, as we all know, only the fish oil is helpful, but absolutely tasteless.

In the life of every young person has the immense plains of boredom. Nothing happens, you freeze up like a tree in a July noon, and it seems that "now" will never budge. In these moments we accept his main position is the main not because of some inherent sense, but because it is such an eternity taking pictures of us for memories. She often remembers us young.

I haven't watched TV or read Newspapers. Internet I used as filthy station toilet - quickly and fastidiously, by necessity, almost not looking at the painting on the walls of the booth. And for twenty-five years a disturbing ripple in my soul subsided.

Just an assembler of someone's soul on close examination rarely looks attractive.

Work colleagues he divided into "skunks" and "tired" (the first in years, that they become the latter, their twonav - like burnable stars).

The mirror of the soul should be kept clean and clear and do your best to not start a ripple. So I tried not to hurt others and should even stupid social institutions, if their violation relied internal punishment. I have helped people than I could not doing this, however, is fetish and was generally good-natured and kind: it allowed to quickly forget the counter.
Of course, I wasn't pissed for having done me bad, taking it simply as one of the peculiar life of inconvenience. I didn't take offense at those who deliberately sought to insult me and humiliate, seeing it as a pathetic attempt to get me familiar.

In the dream, should be a disciplined citizen, and to closely monitor a speech to a careless word or weighty abandoned the idea not to offend the feelings of others.

It was the default output outfit - red mantle in yellow sickles and hammers, the last stronghold of the unpopular Russian identity and an additional guarantee that an idle humanity will leave him alone.
Endless line of the same red, sickle-answer balding blonde went to the mirror in both directions. Turn past infinity, as quipped by some poet.

On soft wall hanging Home Picture - one side Black Square, with another square looking at the Mona Lisa, all the latest metromode.