Book: Bruises on the soul. Page 2

Enough to quiet music, long live the orchestra!

They are both a couple of worthless Dobryakov in this city - a strange, oppressive and indifferent to the charm and delights.

In fact, much more convenient when someone is looking for you, even if that someone is - whatever she said - even more a slave than you.

... one does not like another, and understood in all their claims, and that in most cases, this can neither understand others nor see it, nor read it.

I'd like to love, and even to suffer and even to tremble the phone. Or to put ten times the same album, breathing the air that woke me in the morning..

The wisdom is to concentrate on fleshly pleasures - eating, digest food, make love, lie in the sun. Nothing better yeah and just like that the earth does not exist, nothing but our allotted term of existence, nothing but to breathe, to feel alive and be aware of it.

They are full of trouble, cares, stupid TV, vulgar press, that selflessness seems to them something incomprehensible.

Similarly, ugly women incessantly talking, trying to distract the attention of others from their appearance.

When man is happy, he is ready to thank for that, and only when the joy of life is leaving him, he begins to realize that others were only outsiders to witness his happiness.

But in our day the more money, the more it says about them.

The expression on my face not innocent - rather, empty.

And now came to her happy, triumphant love, and it seemed to her that her heart, instead of focusing only on his elect, became all-embracing, full of glee.

It would be nice if people who commit suicide without telling you about it, would understand once and for all, that they will neither regret the true regret or remorse. They went nuts, that's all. There is a feeling of play or even attempt the play, is doomed to failure.

Should be happy with caution.