Author of quotes: Zakhar Prilepin. Page 2

- How the hell do they have so much money? - habitually marveled Sasha on expensive cars, of which young people in good clothes. One this machine worth as much as my mother does not earn over a hundred and forty years. She that, does not work?.. Or am I again asking stupid questions?

You can argue with someone who seeks the truth with those who want to establish themselves in my opinion, useless to argue.

- Where are you going? - asked one of them unfriendly tone, which speaks all the police of Russia, like everyone they have encountered is already known to be a rascal.

He perched at the TV, flipping through it, habitually tuned to painless to receive several doses of vulgarity and ignorance.

I said I don't need any national ideas. You know? I do not need neither an aesthetic nor a moral basis for loving your mother or to remember father...

However, I know what I noticed? In Moscow the sun sets - as the cooled samovar claimed. In St. Petersburg - Petrovsky penny sleeve hid. In Odessa as a hare on the drum rolling... In Astrakhan - the sunset like a red fish to fry. In Arkhangelsk - like frozen fish were treated, but by had passed. In Ryazan as ants eating the deck. In Riga - if the tablet under the tongue put.

Words.... They rustled like falling leaves. With the rush of drafts of the speech flew under the arches and softly circled again. Every word can be caught on the palm. If the word fell into the beam of light was visible the subtle, blue-veined flesh.

How can a dream about something I have no relationship and do not understand.

Teeth be sure to brush, and then suddenly knock out today.

When every heart has their own story, to touch their hearts, maybe not. Is it necessary to go beyond what's beyond?

For you Russia has no ethnic meaning, not to mention the sense of spatial... are You mad, you are mired in spiritual experience - about him only and say. But the primary in your behavior still is not your quest, not your malonate understanding of good, which you so easily betray, hardly speech comes about a different understanding of being - is primary after all your frustration that you caught not so long ago and was crushed.

Don't even know what I moved, pulled, jerked this time, what kind of limb - whether the tail, fins, wings, but could not I saw the sun, to leave it again.
And it came to me.

Sometimes I question the virtuosity of the driver. When we, two charming men, I'm a foster child, traveling around the city, I doubt everything. I doubt that the flowerpots do not fall from balconies, and mutts do not throw at people, I doubt that ragged in the past month, the wire of a Telegraph pole not numb, and manholes do not fall, opening the boiling darkness. We cherish the most. The boy trusts me, am I entitled to fail?
In particular, I doubt the virtuosity of the bus driver. But to say that I doubt a little. Horror, similar to predvichnyj sensations, driving my unshaven cheeks, and my hands pressed against a three year old with chicken bones body, and my fingers touch his hands, earlobes, forehead, I am convinced that he is a warm, dear, my, here, there, on his knees, the only, unique, funny, strict, and he takes my hand unhappy I prevent it to look like moss.
We're going over the bridge...

Sitting on the waterfront, we eat ice cream and look at the water. It flows.
- When it leaks? - asks the boy.
"When it leaks, we will die" - I think, and not being afraid to scare him, say his thought out loud. He takes my words for the answer.
- And this soon? apparently, he is interested in how fast the water will flow away.
- No, not so soon, I never determine what I'm talking about - about death or about the movement of the river.