Character: Cooking

- Sasha, you're on a date trying to fool around with me?
- Yes! And is that a bad thing?
- No, this in itself is not bad, just weird. You've got a stinky mouth, and then so crooked a girl on a date to invite... This fiasco!
- My strategy is this: to start a relationship with failure, only to then up.

I see you have on each corner of the eyes and ears! Now, let's go around your corners, find Larissa Dmitrievna, and tell her that dinner's getting cold!

For such a case there is a politically correct expression: slobodama.

It's not as bad as you imagine, - says softly stake through my heart. And generally not awful, just weird.

I feel sorry for the person who is genuinely upset because of someone else's good luck. So, just too bad his own business by and large.

Do not figure to be as good if you can disappear from my life at any moment.

With one hand he measures the spices, the other holding me by the shoulders. Saw it in a movie this lyrical scene, spitting would be: what kind of drool, snot and wailing! But life is to be a party to such episode damn nice.

For a moment, again shot through the heart. So it's over. And then came the anger. Why not to see? Let him look at me. But I'll try....

- Life goes on!
- No, it starts!

- S-s-s-s-s, Eugene, you evil-Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh!.. - spitted Cooking, just turning to satire.
- But once all the fun was - cheerful whispered Eugene, pleased very much that roused sleepy swamp the audience.

... and tomorrow a new life will begin. Not necessarily beautiful and amazing. No, not necessarily. But still new. Still a life.

Better let me be a fool, what are you - shit. The first embarrassing and frustrating, but the second is a real disaster.

- Who the hell are you to judge who has the benefit of civilization, and who death!? The state mechanism he studied, with the leaders getting started! And count Tolstoy, Feodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky did you meet? And Russian literature have you read? What, not enough time? Two plus two is always four, and three times three is nine, right? Two parallel lines never intersect? This is your Euclid, they do not intersect, and our Lobachevsky crossed!

- You are a monster! The fate of Russia, thousands of people die, and he was sitting, reading a book! It is in the end immoral!
- And to watch from a safe distance, as people kill each other morally?