Author of quotes: Mikhail Mikhailovich Prishvin. Page 2

Don't know if she loves as I want, and I love it as it should, but our attention to each other is extraordinary, and the spiritual life moving forward not clove, not two, but one turn of the lever on all the gear. <...> How fortunate to be elected: after all, many different people were, and asking, and knowing your "no", went into Oblivion. But I came, and I ocotillos "Yes", and among the many invited I was the chosen one. And how many also and passed and passed and only got my "Yes" was chosen, and we both elected without wine drunk and luxuriate in talking. I like to get living water from a deep well of her spirit, and because of this, I find, open some according to this depth, and the person becomes beautiful to me. Also her face in my eyes, always changing, always worried, like a star.

V. D. Lebedev. I confessed to her in his sense, whom fear, directly asked:
- And if you fall in love?
And I calmly replied:
- All depends on the form of expression from the person to whom the feeling is directed - the person must be smart.
The answer is remarkably accurate and clear, I was very happy.
We had prebestowal incessantly 4 PM to 11 PM. <...>
To me that is all and is considered at all in common, and because they do not notice. And to me it comes as happiness.

Oh, how vulgarized French is "Look for the woman! "Meanwhile, this says that in the depths of all art only a woman, and if not her, then there is no art, no poetry, only prose. The woman is the hearth of art and the artist further away from the source, the more prosaic it.

Grabbed me the Blues today that the hole in my soul, cracked something in it, and there, in the crack, drip my time. Trying for something to grab, for others, nothing work apart and nothing can seal my slit. And so it hurts me that life is invisible, and I don't know where to stretch my hand to anything previsits to the bandwagon to the buffer or to the trunk.

That is not terrible, the one who lives by your feelings and agree with them with the mind: this is the person we all should be. And terrible, who bypassed his natural passion, the cold mind and the fire of his soul was locked in the walls of his mind.

Wrote a short story for young children "Duckling-stahanovets". The extraordinary difficulty of these stories is to achieve glubinki or naivety of the medium, the only in which alone can float the slag of thought.

Can't tell you about how I'm going after North showed up at our birch forest with high flourishing grass: this happiness has come. And when happiness comes and go words. Do you know the love when you yourself from it there is nothing now and never will be, and you still love through it all around and go on the field and the meadow and pick up a colourful one to one, blue cornflowers, scented with honey, and blue forget-me-nots.

One time when I was in the woods, was the sun, strewn with snow and spruce forest at a clearing was before well... Here it is so beautiful that I want something to do and then recorded it in the book, happens before beautiful that never comes to record, and only want to live, and this precisely is the real happiness!

Knocking at the gate. I'm from the vents:
- Who's there?
Slim female or child's voice:
This is liter... ATOR?
I asked:
The Writer Prishvin?
Answer:
I'll have to check.
And, apparently, reads the note:
Komsomol, 85, house Prishvin, Liter ATOR.
Go down, open the gate. Included in the yard is a hefty girl.
- You Liter ATOR? she asked.
- I myself.
And she invited me to read on the evening of Karkala at ICC.
- I do not know - I said - do not even understand what it means to Cortrol.
- Comrade ATOR, - she asked, - how come you don't know: Curral is a course of rabbit production.
Such here there are misunderstandings with the layoffs constantly.

If I, for example, came in RAPP, apologized and said all of their revised, repented and is willing to work just for RAPP, then I would have tore it to bits (so was, for example, Polonsky and many others). The reason for this is that that the whole RAPP held a war and there are enemy (exposes the fact asserting itself) ; its nothing, if someone destroys into something.

The breath of life and death. Dark and terrible it is hanging, drops. There is a deeper layer of longing of the soul, the realm of hopelessness. Carry out the horrible, that does not leave anything from the past, as if life time was not at all, and all the past the same dull spot, as the gray sky. Different to say: that you lived and saved their entire lives, and when they came the black day, then piggy banks have nothing to take.

Habit. Read "old world landowners" and just now in my old age understand why I wrote this thing: the force of habit of the religious is opposed to the rational beginnings. It's an Eastern thing. Live like the Chinese... it turns Out that passion is not love and love is born strong in the habits. <...> All back to "old-world landowners" - that's amazing, almost a scientific experiment in chemistry: the writer eliminated all the factors of life, left one habit and showed us that true, lasting, true love lasts a habit.

Remember, after a trip to the front during the war with Germany, I felt very keenly the discrepancy small current literature with a hell of a grandeur picture of the world of evil, and now, see, the press is not on a business level.

The artist paints hell, he may for this work will soon be given a pension, and it may happen the worst that he would see that all his talent was given to the image feature...