Author of quotes: Herman Melville

Who among us is not a slave, tell me? (...) this is all par for the course that everyone gets about the same - that is, of course, whether in physical or in the metaphysical sense; and thus one of the universal cuff is transmitted from person to person, and everyone in the community feels rather than the elbow, and the fist neighbor, than we should settle for.

Every time I notice the sullen creases in the corners of your mouth; every time in the shower I assembled the chilly, rainy November; every time I catch myself, I started to stop in front of the sign and the undertakers to settle down in the tail each counter of the funeral procession; and especially whenever hypochondria seizes me so that only my strict moral principles do not allow me out on the street, persistently and diligently to knock off the hats of passers-by, I understand that I must set sail, and as soon as possible. It replaces my bullet and gun.

.... But rather swallow your tears and skinite head, soar the spirit. higher, higher, to the top of the mainmast! for your comrades ahead of you, free for you seven heavens, banishing away before you came true favorites - Gabriel, Michael and Raphael. Here, we only clink of the broken hearts - there you will be able to move their once unbreakable cups!"

... reveling in the shed tears, to feel friendliness toward his companion; and I want to tell you straight, in plain English, while our eyes may be wet and the dry and glasses on the heart - sweet sadness: "come on you this thing. Junior Helpers! The more effort you make to please the world, the less gratitude you wait!"

He liked to wash the dust from the old grammars; it is a peaceful occupation led him to the idea of death.

I have seen time and again like Passion and Vanity stamped impatiently at the feet of our generous Land, but the Land has not changed neither its motion nor its flight in space.

-You are not wrong - I said - we just signed the papers.
Paper?... . About your souls?
-What?
-However, you might not be, - he said quickly. - The better. I know many who have no souls, and they rich and happy. The soul is like a fifth wheel in the cart.

The world in which we live, can only hold mutual revenue, so there is nothing to wonder if a pagan has helped Christian, but Christian to help the heathen.

And in between need to pay and the ability to obtain cost - a huge difference.

Everything dies... Waiting for oblivion
Not only a garden, people, dream,
But beautiful features
Shower noblest achievements.
Everybody dies!

Good luck!
Morning them. But really, the evening is ours!
Dashing strike newly-selected range.
Desperate our recruits
In one shot crossed the trenches
And lava flooded the slope.
Forward! Forward on Donelson!
<...>
The enemy is crushed and retreated. It is not up to mockery.
Guys does not hold.
"It's just one click!
Forward! shout. - Forward! Over
with their stronghold!"

Pussy, emptied our house!
Get nuts together
Man and cat
Blanche, like we're:
We are brought up in one
School without studying.
Back, glory and honor,
Books and science,
Boring needs a cycle,
Long cases a nuisance.
At least work, even high-spirited -
Can not live without the pain of life.
<...>
But meditation is boring
And amusements do not need:
Them put we
The soul was light.
Blanche! a sage, who troubles not multiplies
And fooling around, since can!

I know many who have no soul, they just got lucky. The soul is like the fifth wheel of the cart.

Although he was a wild man and though his face, at least for my taste, so terribly disfigured by tattooing, still in his appearance was something pleasant. The soul can not hide.