Book: Words

Pride - the advocate of the disadvantaged.

Honest poor men are not aware that their life purpose is to give food to our generosity. It is shameful the poor - they cling to the walls. I tell them, shoved them into the hand detail and, most importantly, give them a mysterious smile a smile of equality. They look stupid, and I hate to touch them, but I forced myself this ordeal. Moreover, it is essential that they loved me, love for me to do them. I know that they do not have bread, and I like being a luxury item.

I'm not a leader and would not want to be a leader. To command and to obey is, in essence, one and the same. The sovereign people are always commanded by another name - canonized zahrebetnik, his father, and serves as the conduit of the abstract of the will he imposed. I never gave orders, except to amuse themselves and others. Ulcer ambition me no corroding, no wonder I was not taught obedience.

I was taught that we live to play a Comedy. I was ready to participate in it, but on the condition that I will give the main role. However, in moments of insight, which plunged me in despair, I noticed that my role was exaggerated: the text is long, a lot of outputs, but none of the scenes where I would have been the spring of action, in a word, I just cued adults.

I had two reasons to respect my teacher: he wished me well and he's got a bad smell from the mouth. Adults were supposed to be wrinkly, unappetizing freaks; when they were kissing me, I liked to overcome mild nausea, it proves that virtue is expensive.

Than senseless life, repertoriee the thought of death.

I was neither rich enough to believe in its purpose, nor so poor to accept their desires as a pressing need. At the table I carried out the duties of the consumer, and the Lord has revealed to me sometimes - occasionally - grace, consists in the fact that there is no aversion, that is, the appetite. Mindlessly breathing, digesting food. defecating, I lived by inertia, because it began to live.

At that time, every self-respecting family had to be at least one sickly child. I was a true godsend because almost gave his soul to God at birth.

But if Jean Batista Sartre was the knowledge of the mystery of my destination, he took her with him to the grave; the mother only remember that he said: "a Sailor my son's not going to happen". In the absence of more precise information, nobody, starting with me, didn't know what the hell I smoked the sky.

If the human personality is determined in the struggles with myself, I was the uncertainty in the flesh and blood.

In the struggle between fathers and children infants and the elderly often function at the same time: some prophesy, others interpret the prophecy. Nature saith, experience says, the average generation can shut up.

Even from my mistakes was good, so I did not commit.

My joy, but if you read these books now, what will you do when you grow up? - I'm going to live.

The more battles I lose, the faithful will win the war.