Book: Money. Page 1

Sometimes I feel like life is passing me by, or rather passes, as Express in the smoke and roar, the force irresistible, the horror is indescribable. Sweeps - but actually move only I. I'm not a station, do not stop, I have Express.

The main thing - to keep abreast of human weaknesses, then you'll be fine. Someone else's passion is your trump card.

Sometimes, when the sky is so gray - gray perfectly possible to say that the negation of the very idea of colors and hunched millions look up, is hard to distinguish the air from the defects of vision, like all those floating up and down soft curls grit are part of the elements - rain, spores, tears, film, dirt. Perhaps, in such moments, the sky is just the sum of the filth that has accumulated in our eyes.

The phone is a one - way instrument, an instrument of torture.

In street and tavern fights is valid only one law: high violence, in the first moment.

They say all bullies deep down are cowards. Fear is a bully, but something tells me he will not be intimidated. I guess the real fear is incredibly courageous.

On our planet fear have nothing to fear. Fear lives happily ever after. We all dance to his tune. Really.

Say inflation - bearer of the city. Sleeves rolled up, the dollar starts clearing the Augean stables.