Author of quotes: Laurent Botti

She never heard the name of Pierre - he remained in her heart a poison flower, but gradually ebbed away. Then there was Jules, and that flower had circled around the last petals. This continued until one day a terrible disaster did not destroy all at once...

I had my mother's eyes. Pierre - demon's eye.

And in that moment all my hatred that tormented me since childhood, and was the Bane of the teenage years and does not sit still for a minute, as the fed hopes of future revenge, which I cherished for hours, exploded like a volcano, smoldering for years, and my soul, like lava, flooded with incredible disgust.

Serial maniac... that was the main problem: the perpetrator of this type always acts alone, and move them only desire to satisfy their lust, or rather, literally burning him from the inside painful passion. Never a homicidal maniac is not guided in the service of some ideal of mystical or spiritual, whether it's even a mad ritual of offering children in sacrifice to the devil.

Mandel has long come to the conclusion that, in the deepest depths of the brain of man is a large iron Cabinet, which contains in its depths a lone, folded piece of paper on which, like a death sentence, it is written: IQ=82 (in the best case!)

Magic as neurosis is hereditary.

Any of them now looked for it at best a threat, at worst a scoundrel, which it was necessary to fight.

She never missed a chance to let out your anger, smoldering, but never fading inside of her, because of which all life was to her a huge battleground.