Author of quotes: Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Page 3

... not so easy to pull out of the blood the natural desire of every person to fight with a stop, any stop, with death, with peace, with recourse.

Nothing, thought Yurkovsky, it'll be over soon. He looked in the periscope. It was seen as at the top, where fell the spaceship's thick brown fog, but from below, from the unfathomable depths of the bottomless depths of the hydrogen of the abyss, a glimmer of a strange pink light. Then Yurkovski shut his eyes. To live, he thought. To live a long time. To live forever. He clutched both hands in her hair and closed his eyes. Deaf, blind, numb, just live. Only feel on the skin the sun and wind, and next other. The pain, the powerlessness, the shame. As it is now. He pulled his hair. Let as now, but always. Suddenly he heard loud sniffs, and woke up. The feeling is unbearable, crazy horror and despair disappeared. This has already happened with him - twelve years ago on Mars, and ten years ago, at Golconda, and in the last year is also on Mars. The attack is crazy desire to live simply, desire is dark and old as the protoplasm. Like a short faint. But it will pass. It is necessary to endure, as pain. And just about anything to take care of.

We kissed in a Large Park, and then on the embankment under the white statues, and I walked her home and we kissed long in the front, and the stairs all the time why people were walking, although it was too late. And she was very afraid that suddenly passes by her mother and asks: "what are you doing here, Val, and who is this young man?" It was summer, during the white nights. <...> Then it seemed that the most important thing that it will always - winter and summer, and on the embankment under the white statues and in the Big Park, and in the theater, where she was very beautiful in a black dress with white collar and all the time pushed me in the side, so I'm not laughing too loud. But one day she came as we agreed and I agreed on the Videophone again, and she again came and stopped writing me letters when I went back to School. I still do not believe, and wrote long letters, very stupid, but then I did not know that they are stupid.

But, as the Japanese say, even a monkey falls from a tree.

"Jan, zstan, jsan..."
- They were sitting under a downpour of death and listened to the charming music, - said Yurkovski. - Listen, could you turn off that damn ringing? I'm not used to die in such conditions.
"Jan, zstan, jsan..."

But I'm not one of those smug fools who grumble that today's youth-de is not an example is easier than it was to us. Because I know how difficult your task is. The task is always determined by the funds, and how much more powerful your present funds, and so much more difficult your task.

You probably think that all mezhplanetnykh - convinced the celestials. Wrong. We all love the Earth and yearn for the blue sky. This is our disease - longing for the blue sky. Sit somewhere on Phobos. The sky is bottomless, black. Stars like diamond needles, eyes prick. The constellations seem to be wild, unfamiliar. And all around the artificial: the artificial air, artificial heat, even the weight of yours and the artificial...

The main remains on the Ground. As always, though.

We are all a little horse, earnestly said Zhilin. - Each of us is a horse. Is life all mistakes. Her Majesty life. This blessed bastard.

There is a power that even you cannot overcome. I mean philistinism. The inertia of the little man. Townspeople not to win by force, because they'd have to physically destroy. And you can't beat them because the petty bourgeoisie is limited and does not accept any ideas.

- From time immemorial we have so Bang-Bang-bangity Bang, will kill all living creatures, and then begin to organize the reserves.
- What are you? - said Sergey. - Because they are the same way.
- Here to us all the way, - said Matti. - Oxygen causes little, a lot of oxygen - prevents many forest - stopping, ruby woods... Who we are in the end, we all the way?

- Listen, Joyce, - said Ivan. - Here is a Russian boy asks, what will you do when you get rich?
For some time Joyce looked at Yura.
"Okay," he said. I know what the answer is waiting for the boy. So I will ask. The boy will grow up and become an adult man. All his life he will deal with their... how you say... interesting work. But he will grow old and can no longer work. Then what he will do with this boy?
<...>
- I... don't know, I never thought... he paused. The bartender seriously and looked sadly at him. Slowly crawling moments of terror. Jura said with despair: I'll try to die sooner than I will be able to work... - bartender's Eyebrows climbed his forehead, he anxiously looked back at Ivan. In utter confusion Yura said: - And generally, I think that the most important thing for man it is beautiful to die!

Manual is for those who do not know how.

Yes, capitalism is dead. But this is a dangerous corpse.