Book: Three ages of Okini-San

Those who sit at the top today argue according to a well-known scheme: after us, at least a flood. Without thinking about it and not believing that the flood is really coming.

The whole trouble is that our fleet, the only one in the world, rejects the principle of voluntary recruitment. They look at the recruit in the mouth and in the anus, but it would be better to look into his soul: is there a craving for the sea?

You used to think that it was hard, but now it will start hard. They always beat their own more painfully. Paradise life is over.

Atryganiev compared Russia with a ship that, putting the rudders on board, writes out the steepest circulation, which always threatens the ship with the keel tipping upwards.

It seems that a historical moment has come when the proverb “eat bread and salt, but cut the truth” has to be replaced by another: “eat a pie with mushrooms, but keep your mouth shut”

- To spite the Victorians! Why did they suddenly decide that only we, Russians, are capable of being barbarians? ..

She was only available to the happiness that she gives to others.

This happened recently, only a hundred years ago.

... you try to substantiate the reasons for which I will have to sink. But when I get to gurgle bubbles, I trust, will not to think scientifically, I die or illiterate?

The townspeople buried the engineer suicidal. Escorting the deceased explained:
Here it happens often! Not everyone can withstand. What do you want? Sometimes because of the newspaper four months did not come...

- You, Vovochka, do not hearken Atryganevu with special reshpekt. Atryganev enough that the master - he's a cynic.
- Partly Yes, I agree, Leon. But the miner looks like a knight of an ancient and powerful order like the Maltese.
- Caste! - Euler replied (insightful). - Atryganev doesn't understand how close death him and his ilk.
- Whether it is Leon, huh?
- You just don't hear enough drunken miner. And in a drunken state, he utters a terrible toast.

Here is complete freedom of speech, but no freedom of the press because of the lack of the print...

Well, tell me, what a club will not tremble upon seeing your name, your work in print? The Lieutenant walked on Grahovski the streets of Kronstadt, unable to keep from smiling, and took the journal in hand, confident, all the passers-by look at him - here, see, is the author himself!

And live that day envied the dead...