Author of quotes: Max Frye. Page 4

Housing without flaws does not exist, man is by nature imperfect, and all the works of his hands too.

Good in bed have to sleep naked.

Instead of answering, I turn into fire, which dances on the surface of her skin, and then become merciful rain to settle the fire. Walk up to her clouds of smoke, warm, affectionate, hot darkness veiled eyes, tickle the nostrils with fragrance of forest herbs, patiently waiting for her to inhale me, and finally penetrate into the blood. Slowly current, fill her, penetrate everywhere: into fingertips, delicate earlobes, an extensive maze of tendons. What else can be done for a beloved one who never was?

Why the poor are still a God with such a joyful life?!

... sometimes you look in the mirror, and grins out an unfamiliar guy and mug him the most suspicious. And it something I don't believe for a penny.

The simplest and most affordable means of fear is anger.

I appear in his own biography only as a witness, so to speak, affected all my life I'm sick wonders.

... none of us would tie the fate of a person who doesn't follow the same path. And not because it was forbidden, just so we are organized.

Any trifle may be the instrument of fate.

At the bottom of the long winter nights an outdoor cafe, which hospitably candy exude a yellow light, but because of the loosely covered door wafting scent of fresh coffee is much more than just a cafe. This is a saving station, office on minor repairs of broken hearts, the point of dispensing pills from loneliness....

In the face of my face was wandering a bright smile hallucinary idiot...

Who am I to refuse a mystery that took the trouble to personally show up for me!

Any Shadow is very different from his master... The funny thing is that they also consider us their Shadows - and who knows who is right.

As a child I loved going to the train station and watch the trains leaving. It seemed to me that they were going somewhere where it's not really like here. The train went "THERE", they went "AWAY", and I'm deadly jealous of the passengers, tired raspugivali your bags at the baggage bays: this is a fascinating spectacle to see into the lighted Windows of the carriages. On the train coming "OUT" in the dreary "HERE," I chose not to pay attention...