Book: the meaning of life

And still every vaguely feels the innermost essence of travel. For all of us it is something similar to a date, a strange woman moving toward us. It is not visible in the crowd, we must find her. Woman yet indistinguishable from all the others. And who knows, maybe we'll have to talk to thousands of women to lose in vain time and still not meet that which would be opened to us because we were not able to guess. Yes. This is the journey.

It is not enough to prune the tree to make it blossom: still need the intervention of spring.

When in the garden, thanks to the wonders of mutation, suddenly blooming rose charm, running all gardeners. It is surrounded by concern, care, cherish. But there are no gardeners for people.

It is necessary to live long to become a human. Network attachments and friendships intertwined slowly. A slow learner. Slowly create the creature.
Too young to die is tantamount to robbery: to exercise their calling in life, it is necessary to live a long time.

How to measure a man? His ancestor had once painted a deer in the arches of the cave, and after two hundred thousand years the movement of human hands radiates warmth. Still care about us. Continues in us. Human movement - an inexhaustible source.

Tenderness born only out of respect for the individual. Tenderness builds a nest of small things - fun strokes face, potty quirks. Losing a friend, mourning, perhaps, his imperfection.

And under cover of night, we each told the other his life, donated a load of memories, which people understand that they are related.

Deer, Gazelle, animal, any, old, does not lose the natural way. Why is it so good distorted human nature?

Seems to be happening to us a spectacle, an intriguing and invoking curiosity for as long as we look at it from the outside, as strangers. Still don't understand the point.

Hunger and poverty are enemies that can be destroyed on the spot, carrying rocks, digging in the dirt.

In the city not to the person. People do not, some function: a mailman, a salesman, a neighbor who interferes. Man treasure in the desert.

The convict beats a pick not as a prospector, which blow with a pick exalts. Hard labor is not where the beat pick. It is not physical difficulties. Servitude where the beat pick is meaningless, where a blow with a pick will not associate running with all of humanity.

What a pathetic representation of the culture of the spirit the one who believes that it is based on the knowledge of formulas, the memorization of the results achieved. The mediocre pupil of the Polytechnic school, finished the course last, he knows about nature and its laws more than Descartes, Pascal and Newton. But never he never will come such a turn of mind which occurred to Descartes, Pascal and Newton. For those first brought up the soul.

Don't you understand that somewhere we have gone astray? The human anthill is richer than ever before, we have more of all goods and leisure, and yet we lack something essential, which is difficult to find a definition.
We feel people, we have lost some mysterious privilege.