Character: Valerie

Poetry, like everything else, either has no value, or is infinitely significant - it's all about the mindset.

We say Goethe as we say Orpheus.

- Wow! Your hair looks stunning. What did you do with them?
- Uh... Combed.

I love to swim, love to make love. But I don't like to dance, don't know how to have fun; I've always hated parties. Is this normal?

The wolf had not returned, but the villagers still lived in fear - the other life they didn't know.

- Where's my diary? He was here...
You keep a diary?
- You're advised.
- I didn't say that. I was advised just to write down their problems on paper in order to understand them. Diaries is for single people.
- It is not! They want to tell about yourself because you live a different life, and I hope that someone will read their diaries and find out what actually was their author.
- Exactly! Because they're lonely.

- Only do not write there anything bad about me.
- Of course not...
- Write there a few words... that you're not alone... I'm with you.

- I have to go until I learn to protect you... from yourself.
- I'll wait...
- I do not doubt.

Love makes the refrigerators full. And my already empty.

- You had a lover before you met grandpa?
My question is, it seems, did not surprise her. She calmly responds, ceasing not to knit:
- Your grandfather was the only man in my life. I married him, because otherwise it could not be. But I've learned to love it. Remember, as they say in one movie: the women with no education have two options in life - either marriage or prostitution, which are in fact one and the same, isn't it? I never slept with another man to your grandfather, if that's what you mean.
- If you had to begin all over again, what would you do?
- Then I would have slept with all the men of the world, dear, ' she replied, smiling.

Everyone else wanted from me only sex, and I loved it. But sometimes it hurts, because I'm still a woman.