Author of quotes: Lev Kassil

In postage stamps, I see at the same time a small window in something that beckons me to a distant world, and a heraldic sign of the people and the state, a calendar sheet with a memorable date, restoring in my mind an event or the name of a remarkable person.

People of intellectual labor, obey the things and nothing could be done about it. And the people-masters themselves had no things.
When in our apartment clogged toilet, lock the bar infringed the key or had to move a piano, the table was sent down to the basement, where he lived working railway depot, to ask that "someone" came. "Someone" came, and things were humble before him: a piano retreat in the right direction, Sewerage was his throat and the lock is released the key at will.
Mother said: "Golden hands" - and counted in the cupboard a silver spoon.
If the lower tenants were required to prescribe a brother in the village, they appealed to "their mercy" to the top. And looking like dictation scribbling "in the first line" bows countless relatives, moved out loud: "Here it is, umstvennoi. And the fact that our rakomelo? Pure darkness without a clue".
And in the shower floors quietly despised each other. "Think art," said hurt dad: "the sink in the bathroom was fixed... You'd do the surgery of the ear! Or, say, craniotomy". And at the bottom I thought: "You'd climb would be on all fours under the engine, and the big thing - scribbling with a feather!"