Book: Secluded

- "I'm warm here too" /

A wanderer, an eternal wanderer, and everywhere only a wanderer.

After printing, love became impossible. what kind of love is

So much fun that the planet will dance.

Do not go out, girls, to marry either writers or scientists. and writing, and learning - selfishness.

Only such love for a person is real, not diminished against the essence of love and its task - where the lover does not separate himself at all in thought and is not separated, as it were, in the very blood and nerves from the beloved.

Black fire.

What he wanted, so he choked.

I don’t even know if the word Morality is written through Et¹ or E. And who her father was - I don’t know, and who the mother was, and whether there were children, and where her address is - I don’t know anything at all.

It always seemed to me - in general, always - that I was crushed in the street by horses.

Whoever does not love a person in his joy - does not love in anything. Here is how asceticism deals with this idea. Whoever does not love the joy of a person does not love the person himself.

Until you submit to the school and dutifully let it remake you into a worthless person, until then you will not be allowed anywhere, will not be accepted anywhere, will not be given any place and will not be allowed to do any work.

I do not argue that this is sad. but all of Rus' is sad. Everything

Only 60 times, in the happiest case, I could stand in the great Thursday "With candles" all-night: how could I miss at least one Thursday?! God: Passover 60!!! So little. only 60 Christmases!!! How can you miss one of these?!