Character: Sophie. Page 2

But what's the point? - I asked. - What, so all my life look at the sky and clouds? We do not think, - I nodded to the screen, from the time of Peter the great try to dress in something European. And shave his beard...
"I know," said Sophie. - Colonial exploitation, the Frame. The Western way of life requires a tremendous amount of the game. Every day, every moment. Western culture is built on one axiom of the secret - that life is flowing in visually appealing forms, as such, is acceptable. Apollo raised an entire generation of donors, not responsive to the reality of life, a picture of this reality. For the moviegoer there is no difference between "be" and "to look". You become a generator of visual images, which should ideally be someone else's cause envy. You're busy all the time performance that needs to convince others and yourself that you are successful and happy. You worked all my life exuding the pain dummy, comparing himself with the reflection of the other wax people... If interested, look at the death mask of your Peter. Many realize.

Is conscious of the struggle people have nothing but these dirty street carnivals, poured their anger into the sewer...

- Of course, you hate to be angry! - she flared. - Because you don't like anything unpleasant, right? Just you something do not like, you love that time - and aside! You Unilevel, that's who you are!

It was a fine lad of about forty. "Well, well! thought Sophie. - Even this morning I'd say he's an old man! Wow, it turns out, depends on how you look at it!"

Women's Council has never stopped anyone, right?

I can't stand this type of idle grief!

So I want to believe that miracles still happen...

- Howl, why have you sent me to Suliman if you had been?
I came only because you were there, Sophie. Would I go there alone? You saved me.

- Dear grandma, wish me luck. Soon we'll meet again in Paris. A bientot...
- They ran away! It's so romantic! What a beautiful ending!
- No. This is a great start...

When you go in search of happiness, becomes not to the last detail.

Dear Claire, "what" and "if" - it's just two innocuous words. But, if you put them together, you get the question that will haunt you forever.
What if? What if? What if?
I don't know how your story ended but if what you felt was true love, then it will not go away, you just have to decide to follow his heart.
I don't know what love Juliet. Love ready to leave my family, to fly to the edge of the earth, but I hope that if I'll be lucky enough someday to test it, I have the courage to keep that love.
Claire, if you didn't, I hope someday you will do it.
With love, Juliet.

Song for Cora. Something that Cora could sing. And what would you sing it. What do you wish you could sing?
- For the money? About anything!

- And on what subject got into a fight?
- It does not matter, spit.
I wish you spat, judging by your face.

- Know how much time you've spent here tonight with that thing in your hand? - Sophie asked, his voice flat, waving the sponge.
Antoine frowned.
- Are you worried about the fact that Mathias alone - she continued, - but of his own loneliness you never thought of?
She threw him a sponge, which landed right in the middle of the table, and left the house.