Author of quotes: David Labba. Page 2

We jump from one addiction to another - here what is our choice.

Who is better or worse? I breath, I feel sick. Sometimes want to set fire to everything and burn yourself along with everything. But then did we come into this world? Destroy? I don't think. Many think of themselves artists, I think, that contribute to the world something useful, do not notice that ruining it with their vile inventions. And manned flight to the moon - not a step forward - more a leap backward.

Everyone is busy with their absurd cases. Even the old people expect the leftovers from the plans of their children and grandchildren. The old conductress on the bus, looking out the window, what was she thinking? What!? Fool, you will die soon, you know? You're going to die! Why are you so calm? Why do you think about the nail fungus and not about eternity? What is your goal in life? I hope that putting a candle in a Church, then you will go to heaven? Or icon, nailed over the door of the house, will save you? And maybe hope that when you die, your soul for a pray, and out of a purgatory you go to heaven? That may be so. But what kind of idiocy then - life? I do not believe that the gates of heaven so wide, as they say this, many do not believe that the hole in the hell is so narrow.

Lovers of meaningless art often makes me laugh. A sort of Cutesy pseudo marginal. They are pretending not to understand who and allegedly are addicted to different kinds of neordinarno, implying that classical art for them doesn't make sense anymore and they find something unclear, unprincipled. But it is just illusion trying to find our own style. They eat the same food, laugh at the same jokes, wear the same clothes, talking about the same thing, NOT thinking, NOT what others think. In General, lying in the same pigsty, that's all. And, I dare say that in the most healthy puddle.

Some people can't draw, but I want to. That is why only their inability to draw is often seen as talent? It is not clear.

Writing - schemers and hypocrites. When a person not versed in psychology, but has an unbearable desire to write something and it is taken for the description of nature. And, does it very colorful and long. Confirmation of many writers and poets. They were certainly talented. Anyone who writes deserves even the slightest respect, whatever it is. But when the writings of a solid nature or description of anything and everything, even all the little important things, events that simply don't have the patience to read it. The thought that the author tries to use the descriptions, as long as you can keep the reader over his work, causes nausea and rejection. Such books are often simply thrown in a bucket, marked: "tiresome" so it is, indeed, necessary.

Many people will see a quote from some book, absorb it into memory, and then he heard the title of this piece from acquaintances or friends, they exclaim: "Oh, I read it!" How low to do so. There are so many mugs from imagining themselves intellectuals, and they think no one sees.

I went because I was bored. I started to look at other girls and dream about them, sometimes without saying goodbye to her. Seeing this, I refused to tolerate and to forgive herself for such inexcusable attitudes and behavior. It was low and despicable, but honest. I realized that true love never lead.

Man is fearfully lazy creature like a snail. Soon she is crawling on the ground, and we are in temporary space. All this could be finished a long time ago, jumping to the next stage, but no. We are stuck because of our own selfishness. People think only about themselves. Some pretend they care about others, but this is not true. Nobody thinks about how to save the spiritual essence of humanity. Just waiting for someone, hoping that he will make a move for us.

Silence is the best melody in the entire universe. But on Earth, to her there's no more room.

Someday I will hear nothing and will not see voluntarily immersed in the natural vacuum of sensory deprivation. No cars, trains, airplanes, ships, forever chattering people, eating, crying and laughing. I could say goodbye to it all right now, drowning myself in the bath or cutting the wrists, but life is given us for something very important, I know that. You can't just leave it hoping for the best. So I'll move on.

The truth is one. I'm convinced. And only the devil can be a lot of postulates, but he acts carefully, moving on tiptoe. He is not able to invent something of my own, so once upon a time, prognuvshis from heaven, he took divine truth, distorted it spin on my finger, spat pus and scattered around the world. Bad grain heresy came to specific people, and then grew into them, uvlekshis millions of others. Now those piles of crazy slaves of Satan broadcasts about peace, love, friendship, but each in different ways. They point fingers on their way, promising salvation is here and there, but all of these paths eventually connected, and the terminal station, the lake of fire. Today, good looks is very strange, it is deformed, transformed, and behind him, most often, is evil. However, people are blind and don't want to see, they don't care about eternity, they live the moments, dreaming about the next minute.

All around, supposedly, there is an incentive. They, like oxen, harnessed to a cart, and drove them forever sharp sixth. Maybe, all creatures need it, and we made the most feeble, infirm?

The man was an animal, a slave of his instincts, he lived in Paradise, because he was one with nature and not know evil. And then I realized that the good can be separated from the evil, saw, or rather, came up with this line, and became a slave to his Ego, trying to run away from the evil to the good, and later renounced his false "I" died and metaphorically resurrected, United with the absolute God. The physical tree does not exist, it is just an allegory, and a touch of the fruit was inevitable.