Author of quotes: Victor Astafiev

And then you don’t know whether to envy you and your kind or not. You have lived your life so well and correctly (living seventy years in a mess, you have remained intact, as one modern poet sarcastically remarked), that you have nothing to repent of. Jesus Christ had something to repent of, but the Vladimir inhabitant (...) had nothing to repent of!

I am writing a book about the war in order to show people, and above all Russians, that war is a monstrous crime against man and human morality, I am writing in order to, if not curb, then at least slightly calm the aggressive principle in a person. And you need to glorify valor in war and long-suffering, while forgetting that the more you lie about the past war, the sooner you bring the future war closer.

In addition to the fact that the communists and (...) adamant patriots (....) devastated Russia with wars and transformations, humiliated and trampled on its unfortunate people, they developed, under pain of bayonets, a moralist demagogue who arrogated to himself the right to set himself as an example to everyone, and teach and guide their foolish brethren.

To change someone, as well as to shoot, and to judge according to human morality and God's covenant is impossible, impossible. It is only according to Soviet morality that one hundred and twenty million of their fellow citizens can be killed, so that advanced morality triumphs and there is universal Soviet happiness.

Few people, including the communists, the devil knows what the reborn will survive. Here's how to attack Russia, which we ourselves have nurtured and nurtured.

Once upon a time, the handsome Simonov, who knew how to please the Soviet reader, said through the mouths of his heroes - the German: “We still taught you to fight,” and the Russian: “And we will wean you!” - so this is my share to wean not the Germans, but our compatriots from this terrible habit of shedding blood for any reason, wanting revenge, climbing into the Caucasus with your charter, going on liberation campaigns.

Only God gives life, and every reptile takes it away.

The one who lies about the past war brings the future war closer.

Music and nature are the most faithful, holy and unchanging things that remain with a person and do not allow him to completely run wild.

Fashion, it is like measles, it wants to, it will cover everyone with a red rash.

Remembering the spring island, I also think about us humans. After all, spring comes to each person late or early. In what form, in what color - it does not matter. The main thing is that she comes.

He who does not grow, dies! - such is the law of life.

The person performing the impersonal duties, making impersonal, almost meaningless and the use of labor itself becomes faceless, like a statue, long time and uncomplicated anyone out-fashioned, and his life turns into a gray speck of dust, rotating in the same grey, a thick cloud of dust.

He was in his hometown, out from under the wet visor caps, both taught service, routinely noted that was done around that stood, walked, and drove. Sleet pulled up not only movement, but also the life. People stayed at home, preferred to work under the roof, on top a Lil squished everywhere, flowed, water ran not streams, not rivers, as it is colourless, sploshno, flat, informal: lay, circled, shimmered from a puddle in a puddle, from the gap into the gap. Everywhere revealed was covered with debris: paper, cigarette butts, recessie boxes, flutter in the wind the cellophane. Black trees on grey poplars clung crows and jackdaws, their move, another bird dropped by the wind, and she immediately blindly and heavily clung to the branch, sleepily, with senile grumbling the bridge at her, as if were choking on a bone Klenov, stopped. And thoughts Sosnina to match the weather, slow, thick, barely stirred in the head, not tech, not running, but it is sluggish to move, and this movement far no light, no dreams, only one concern, one concern: how to live?