Book: Counterfeiters

Only snobs amuse, exposing all her jewelry, especially when they are fake.

Heart has no ability to commiserate-to-order; I felt for him only disgust.

Good deeds <...> could be pleasant only in those cases where we have the opportunity to pay the same.

And, not being able to explain the coldness of her lover, she blamed it on myself, told myself I could conquer him if I was prettier and bolder; not being able to hate him, she blamed himself, uncials, considered himself worthless, didn't see the point in their existence, and did not recognize any more advantages.

Women have a remarkable tendency to self-sacrifice. The beloved is often a kind of hanger on which they hung their love.

Some people are very happy with such equanimity is not agreeing to admit that often owe this ability is not so much strength of character, how well-known sluggishness of temperament.

In life, nothing is permitted, everything lasts. Dwell in uncertainty, and remain in it until his death, not knowing what to hold, and waiting for the denouement life goes, goes on like nothing happened. And with this also accept, as with everything in General.

Oh, how difficult to pronounce the slightest word when it requires the full approval of another creature! Suffice it to linger heart, and it aggravates and induces paralysis of the brain.

The devil with God at the same time, they work together. We try to persuade ourselves that all the evil that exists on earth comes from the devil, but this is because otherwise we would not have found the strength to forgive God. He plays with us like a cat with a mouse, which she torments... And then he also requires us to be grateful to him. Grateful for what? for what?.. <...> I know that most horrible of all he made?.. To sacrifice his own son for our salvation. Your own son! Your own son!.. The cruelty here is the first of the attributes of God.

When I was young, I led a very harsh life, rejoicing, strength of character each time I was able to defeat any temptation. I didn't realize that thinking like free, I more and more became a slave to his pride. Each of these victories over ourselves meant turning the key in the lock of the door of my prison. That's what I meant when I told you that God tricked me. It was arranged that I mistook for the virtue of your pride. God laughed at me. He laughs. I think he's playing us like a cat with a mouse. He sends the temptation, knowing that we won't be able to resist; if we still can not resist, then he avenges us even more bitter.

She does not know how to open yourself. Each of her enthusiasm - I now see it was for her only the bed on which her mind it was convenient to lie down next to my thoughts; nothing they did not serve a response to the deep requirements of her own nature.

There are many works that we admire, so to speak, to trust, because everybody admire them and no one still did not occur or did not dare to say that they are incompetent.

No matter what I say or what I do, always some part of me remains somewhere in the side and watches the other part compromise itself, watching how she conducts herself, mocks her, booed her or applauding her. When you wear that kind of duality can judge for yourself, to be sincere?

Roads such bliss could only lead to the abyss.