Author of quotes: Eldar Ryazanov

For the time being no one can see.

I want to see the bend and flow
Blue river among the curly shrubs,
Absorb the glow of the sun' skin,
Throw yourself into the water from the bridges without swimsuits.
I want a cute naïve melody,
Swallow the air like ripe berries,
That madly the soul kolobrodit,
And that the heart was rushing.
I want to meet with what is lost,
At least for a moment to fall into this distant ...
Only for everything that rushed, paid
And there remains a farewell reckoning.

And endlessly adore everything that lives.

All my horror that I'm perfectly normal. I have no twists in the psyche. I'm not prone to depression, I don't know what it is, you know? But I am not optimistic that such a coltish. I am absolutely ordinary person. I all the time wonder why I'm nevertheless able to do the whole nation hung on the ears of the labels?

Come other times,
Thee not, lie without wincing.
I realized love is a country
Where everyone is a pretender.
My misfortune and not the fault,
I'm naive example.
Love is a deceptive country,
And every inhabitant in her deceiver.

I would have to live
in a country
to be proud of her!..
Just me
in the big shit
had a chance to be born.
Did not help
Russia God
the king or the Republic.
Our people
stealing, drinking,
shits because ruble.
Cheat
to betray, cheat,
steal - how nice for you!
Terrible way
in darkness and horror,
Homeland sovereign.
How many years
still no
the life of human.
Race of the year.
Always trouble
above you, the Fatherland.

I would like to overthrow the evil yoke
hustle, communication, meetings and other things.
I'm saving like a miser and a mean dog,
rare moments of solitude.
God, how many talking nonsense:
or to think or concentrate.
There is only one prop-
rare moments of solitude.

Love is ready to forgive,
when she is love
able indefinitely to wait
when she is love
love can not be sinful,
when she is love
it is impossible to forget
when she is love
it is able to give life,
when she is love
it - salvation, grace,
when she is love
full immense kindness,
when she is love
it is natural as you
when she is in love.

What is life? A piece of music,
Whether Sonata, Fugue or a mass
Suite, Nocturne, and Scherzo?
Here the rhythms are dictated by the heart.
Scraping strum, fuck,
Strumming Il is in shock.
Played without stopping.
Changing only the orchestration.

In memory of my fuckin ' property
I remember what is best forgotten.
Want to get rid of sore anxiety,
But can't be reversed.

In itself I dig capriciously,
The dustbin of memory, I bloody keep...
Offenders polyceram of life,
I have them in the imagination buried.

From memory my bad a property
Every dirty trick will be a long time to fester.
Want to get rid of sore anxiety,
But can't be overcome.
In dimensionless Luggage storage,
In the minds of suitcases and bags,
In which accumulated insults,
Resentment, humiliation and clicks.

What is nostalgia?
It's a pain, and that cry,
and being away from expensive
and with all that used to.
Nostalgia is a flame,
drown him,
this wounded memory
about gone forever.

Even if life is ordinary,
all you can do, from the heart,
understand all living things price
and to judge someone else is not a rush.
Waste yourself, live carelessly,
benefits do not consider, is no small thing...
Let people difficult
and alarming, you must understand their earthly life.