Book: Natalia. From Colombia. With love.

FRANÇOIS: What if that person hadn't made a mistake and called your name?
She shrugged.
MARIA: I would also take a step forward and get my bullet.
FRANÇOIS: Did you care?
MARIA: No. That's where I didn't care. When my husband was shot, he fell, I realized that I was waiting for all the same, I had so much rage. So much hate! But not to the regime. Not to Hitler. Generally. On myself rather. For the fact that I waited so much, waited, waited for life to begin, it never began, but now that's it. I didn't, you know, but I lived every cell what an améba I was. How I was not involved in life, how I got married in vain, I gave birth in vain, how ... yes at all... it's me - an ameb who is incapable of living! That's what I was thinking then. I was very angry. So evil that my knees were shaking. And he didn't name. I was waiting for familiar syllables, but he didn't name them. And it's like surfaced. Life burned oxygen rushed into my brain. I just saw all the space between the hastily knocked down barracks, these corpses, capos, which corpses are dragged into wheelbarrows. I'm not terrified or... I just, as if for the first time I saw, there might as well have been a meadow with cows, my shock would be exactly the same - that's all. Present. Exists. RIGHT AWAY. It's now and me now! We are in one moment. And it's my lungs, my heart, my numbness, not someone's, but mine. My fear is that now the mistake will be revealed and he will return. And these are my shoes that get dirty in blood.

And then I realized: luxury is thoughtfulness.
It is with love when I think about the little things. When even the most tiny not embarking on the course.
Luxury is awareness.

- You seem well versed in earthly pleasures.
- Vladimir Yurievich, it's a shame to live on the white light and to understand its pleasures.

- You seem well versed in earthly pleasures.
- Vladimir Yurievich, it's a shame to live on the white light and to understand its pleasures.

It's like the actor - to the stage. Like the hundredth time rise, and if the excitement you have, then you're not an artist at all. If you don't care to cut a pig or a human, you're not a surgeon. Not a doctor even. And maybe not people.

The music rocked.
Took out the cabinets, somewhere under a very alien sky, strange hot stars, maybe palm trees.
Under the spotlight, to the Pacific coast, where white sand and icy cocktails.
And ladies in dresses is so light that those sailing them through the air, I repeat any movement.
He sang the singer.
He knew every word
every note of this strange giddy dazzling world
knew as the host.
He perfectly led. Firmly and smoothly.
Gently and confidently.
If I knew in advance all the movements,
like everything is exactly what was intended with the creation of the world...

The world is not as ugly as you think. Cope with it, I hear. Even when very sad, or scared, or hurt.