Book: Under the new hammer

Soon November will drive along the rivers and lakes of its diamond nails, scattered diamonds and white velvet and renew the heavenly gwozdecky, gold and silver, on a dark sapphire ceiling of the night sky.

The first feeling of being experienced in childhood, is the first kisses of peace to the soul.

... Before morning, at the hour when short night kisses the day, rich long lighter moments, when a solitary in the blue of the sky shines the Morning Star sophisticated and her long Golden eyelashes...

You cannot take a flowery butterfly by the wings and not to erase her colorful dust, to change its pattern, which, with a ceremonial banner, she flew out in God's morning.

... Childhood is a complex beautiful mystery.

A woman's heart is always chained, and the more it is pity that won't let, don't let go. Man's heart is always free, and likes or dislikes, and leaves, for a moment, an hour, a day, for a long time, often forever.

Beast beast - rose, and man to man - Roz. Under one of them doesn't fit. And to spare all you need. All of God's creation.

She was sorry that the yellow leaves are falling, and what's not something done to make undone, and sorry furry black-and-yellow bumblebee, which fell to the ground and, numb, not in forces was to take off and sorry for myself, infinitely sad that no one sees, so much tenderness in her heart, no one, especially not he sees you, he that she to anybody did not do before.

Yes, clothes are much more human than the people themselves. The branches on the tree lot, and one tree. The leaves on the tree a lot more than the branches. And each sheet like himself, and leaves-in fact all similar, all the wood brothers, wild relatives. And without a single tree not to be.

Singing snowflakes... about the beauty of the world and life, what is good to desire, and thirst, and to create something, that happiness is stronger than misery, and no sin, only error, and there is a revival in the shift hours, endless purity, vosstanovleniya kristallnact in seeking the running days and nights.

A lot of the day ringing and apparent miracles, which are open to everyone. At night there are more, but they are known to few, and not all.

Many flowers close by night and detract from its fragrant breath, and other flowers bloom only at night, enjoying the movement of light in the darkness, Lily of the valley breathing in the darkness stronger than the sultry smell, and good night violet, ravishing and breathes in the night tobacco for its white blossoms.

This fairy on a Sunny day, while walking, to see the first ladybug, when the Sun sweetly staggering his new power, but spring had not yet captured the full hour, but appears to hesitate, to strengthen her for real or to play for another chill.

When the female and male heart beat close to one another, from heart to heart running invisibly spirits of fire, who like to weave and break and re-weave a shaky, but strong, fiery yarn. And if the two conversing mind find that they are very well with each other and what they are, and even arguing, but internally consonant conversation, at a time when crossing the invisible lights from the heart to the heart, the distracted conversation can lead to unexpected events, whose arrival can be immediate.