Character: Leo Herzberg

I was overcome by a sense of incomprehensibility of being. Is it possible to grasp what it means to be alive? And what is the mind, to understand is also impossible. Nothing for granted in the world simply does not exist.

For some reason people think that hope can be large or small. This is not so. She's just either there or it is not.

For their feelings of people is not the answer. Only for the actions.

Any correspondence is sure to permeate the invisible wells, black holes exist.

Art, with all its futility, does not want to become a part of everyday life, and the main force which it possesses, is primarily the ability to carry the breath of their Creator.

Any story told about myself, can be told only in the past tense. It spins in the opposite direction, from the point where man is now, but not as a participant but as a spectator, who decided to speak. The road behind him marked with stones like those that initially threw Hansel. But soon this road can not be found, because the stones ran out.

To some extent we all bear the marks of the joys or sorrows of their parents. Their feelings are imprinted in us as a chromosome or set of genes.

You know, if your inner voice tells you: "don't!" and that your desire becomes less clear if you're not sure, don't do in any case.

We often admire someone else's ease. People light, carefree, not walk, but glide, attracted the usual hardships and gravity like no control over them. Their carelessness we take for happiness.

I knew that in front of me. Mountain. Dry mountain, which has become old and familiar. It breeds in the bones, the flesh to him, and after some time the man himself ossified, becomes stiff, withered, like a skeleton in a high school biology classroom.

I often wonder what really happens in our consciousness when we return to long forgotten places. How does the prospect of memory? Maybe an adult adjusts the picture seen through the eyes of a child, or the brain only stores frozen cast, petrified remains of what was once so familiar?

Oblivion - as much a part of life as memory. It is human nature to forget.

Alas, jealousy and anger - the constant companion of glory, even if the glory is not universal. And no matter where she comes to you in the schoolyard, in the boardroom, in the University auditorium or exhibition hall.