Book: Moby dick or the White whale

Every time I notice the sullen creases in the corners of your mouth; every time in the shower I assembled the chilly, rainy November; every time I catch myself, I started to stop in front of the sign and the undertakers to settle down in the tail each counter of the funeral procession; and especially whenever hypochondria seizes me so that only my strict moral principles do not allow me out on the street, persistently and diligently to knock off the hats of passers-by, I understand that I must set sail, and as soon as possible. It replaces my bullet and gun.

.... But rather swallow your tears and skinite head, soar the spirit. higher, higher, to the top of the mainmast! for your comrades ahead of you, free for you seven heavens, banishing away before you came true favorites - Gabriel, Michael and Raphael. Here, we only clink of the broken hearts - there you will be able to move their once unbreakable cups!"

... reveling in the shed tears, to feel friendliness toward his companion; and I want to tell you straight, in plain English, while our eyes may be wet and the dry and glasses on the heart - sweet sadness: "come on you this thing. Junior Helpers! The more effort you make to please the world, the less gratitude you wait!"

He liked to wash the dust from the old grammars; it is a peaceful occupation led him to the idea of death.

I have seen time and again like Passion and Vanity stamped impatiently at the feet of our generous Land, but the Land has not changed neither its motion nor its flight in space.

-You are not wrong - I said - we just signed the papers.
Paper?... . About your souls?
-What?
-However, you might not be, - he said quickly. - The better. I know many who have no souls, and they rich and happy. The soul is like a fifth wheel in the cart.

The world in which we live, can only hold mutual revenue, so there is nothing to wonder if a pagan has helped Christian, but Christian to help the heathen.

And in between need to pay and the ability to obtain cost - a huge difference.

I know many who have no soul, they just got lucky. The soul is like the fifth wheel of the cart.

Although he was a wild man and though his face, at least for my taste, so terribly disfigured by tattooing, still in his appearance was something pleasant. The soul can not hide.

But faith, like a Jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she extracts the life-giving hope.

Whatever that thing is laughter from the heart, superb and quite rare, and this, by the way, sorry. Because if any man is his own person delivers people the material for a good joke, let it not scaredycat and not shy, let him cheerfully give yourself into the service of this business.

In fact, the Windows, and my body is a house.

All of my disputes with him for anything would not have brought, let him be and continue yourself, I say, and heaven have mercy on us all and Presbyterians and pagans, because we all have, in General, the brain is very wrong and in need of major repair.