Author of quotes: Dmitry Glukhovsky. Page 3

Neither of which is facilitated by. No one was talking. No one one question Illya could not answer. The regret was not. There was no fear. Satisfaction was not. Outside was a vacuum, and the inside was a vacuum, too. Airless and soulless. Went home, only because I had to go somewhere. To come and go to bed. To sleep it off and open a vein. Nothing in this complex was not in the area taught. Nothing in life is difficult was not to die easily and kill easily. But no one does not become easier, nor from the other.

Stood there and thought: on the outside the air is very rarefied. Places here too, the population density is too low. In the area here for a hundred and fifty people in the barracks, the prison fifty in the house, bunks in three tiers, to a stranger the fates of two feet; and each, instead of fate - an open fracture; the sharp fragments out. It is impossible not to stumble on the other, it is impossible not to strut for me, do not smear the meat in rags. Climb into each other's eyes, in the nose with his stinking guts, a member of the poke. Nowhere from each other to go. First terribly from this, then sick to vomit, then get used to it, and then without it, even empty. In the wild with other people in different apartments live wall to separate the train every in his bubble goes. As the tea bags after chifir - so on the outside. Sit, think - outside only all genuine. Out - falshak. Life in the zone Wraith, and nothing is more present there.

Moscow turned off the light, threw it adults, has introduced a strict regime, but young is all as if not concerned. They had to live urgently, to fall in love right then and there, to intoxicate themselves and immediate surrender. They have each second counts were; and all had to burn.

Was scared of irrevocable and sweet is not clear from what; from the revenge - and terribly on it, and what a sweet thought.

Moscow day seemed proud, and at night - miserable.

And love of the school - room, will it be transplanted from a pot into adulthood - weeds score.

Him Moscow, her longing.

Moscow itself was drunk myself, and all my hops were treated.

Really wouldn't let us be together for a second. And the lies I bought her a life and a romantic getaway.

Who came up with that the truth is easy to say? That's already a lie.

Convenient: I don't have to lie to, and now for me lie more.

I need: to wash. It would be good and belly ourselves to open to get the insides to wash this grey evil soap and put back.

- In Russia there is one strange illness. Throat from her overgrown film, and the sick were suffocated. Air is less, until he dies.
They treated her strange contraption, a silver tube. Film is afraid of silver. The physician inserts the patient in the throat a small silver tube, and he breathes through it until you overcome the disease.
You are my silver tube. With you I began to breathe.

Beauty is a never-ending war with their own ugliness, any truce which means defeat.