Book: Swimming section for drinkers alone

I don't know, Liza, whether there is a way out or not. Someone just tries, and someone gives up.

We're freaks. Of course not outwardly, we are pretty successful at pretending to be human. But as soon as we look into our eyes, everything becomes clear at once.

Happiness strives for a person, like a river strives to flow into the sea. But nevertheless it requires constant struggle, overcoming oneself; in general, to be a happy person means to feel like a full-fledged person, confident in their own abilities, knowing their coordinates in the world exactly.

A day spent at least without a drop of happiness is wasted.

Death comes in a senseless and strange way. Not like in a movie, she comes, not like in a book. He just comes once, when he pleases, and he will not leave any answer behind.

Yes, I would like to believe that human life is just preparation for something really important.

Recently I accidentally found out that they have as many as three hearts, and I cannot imagine it, I am getting scared. I wonder how it feels when three hearts hurt at once?

Perhaps it is really easier to forget, but you cannot forget. You have to force yourself to remember.

It is said in vain that time heals - in fact it is wasted; sooner or later, time still wins - as a strong drug that heals the mind, but corrodes the insides. No one has yet healed time, it is accepted to forget.