Character: on behalf of the author. Page 505

It was a man who did not see life with my own eyes, and learned it only through books and was doubly dangerous because they have convinced themselves of their sincerity. He genuinely tried their lust for lofty feelings, faintheartedness - for the artistic nature of impermanence, laziness philosophical calm. His mind, vulgar in his attempts at refinement, saw everything in slightly exaggerated form, vaguely, through the gilded haze of sentimentality. He lied, not knowing what was lying, and when others reproached him, saying that the lie is beautiful. In short, he was an idealist.

After all, it is an illusion that youth is always happy, an illusion of those who have long parted with the youth; the young know how much they have to endure grief, because they are full of false ideals, instilled in them since childhood, and came into conflict with reality, they feel like she beats them and hurts. Young people start to think that she was the victim of a conspiracy: books chosen for them by adults, where everything is idealized, conversations with elders who can see the past through the haze of oblivion - all this prepares you for life quite different from the reality. Young people have to access most, what she read and what she was saying - lies, lies and lies; and each discovery is another nail piercing the young body, crucified on the cross of human existence.

Girls guess not that obvious as 2+3. All psychological mysteries, especially with the undertones and intricate tangles of relations, they click on the fly.

Seasoned travelers say that if the food is tasteless, you just a couple of days ahead of time sat down to lunch.

Their resurrected love, the heart entered into infinite sources of life for the heart of another.

Both sitting there, sad and dead, as if after a storm thrown on the blank shore alone. He looked at Sonia and felt how much it was her love, and strangely, he suddenly became hard and painful that he so loved.

Independence replaces freedom.

No matter what passionate, sinful, rebellious heart has disappeared in the grave, the flowers growing on it serenely look at us with their innocent eyes: not one eternal tranquility, they tell us, of that great peace of "indifferent" nature; they speak also of eternal reconciliation and life everlasting...

Three and a half years I wanted to be a cook, mind you, as a cook, not a chef. At the age of seven wanted to be Napoleon, and my claims since then have become steadily increase.
(At the age of six I wanted to be a chef. At seven Napoleon. And later, my ambitions have grown no less than the desire for greatness.)

... the man who has no enemies, but they successfully replace secretly hate his friends.

Loneliness has now become the only available luxury.

What happened here was not, strictly speaking, neither a tragedy nor a Comedy. It was generally hard to call them something, so was there a mixture of different contradictions and laughter and tears and joy and sorrow, of painful boredom and a most lively interest (all depended on how you look at it), as it was here seething life of passion, deep meaning, funny and sad, vulgar simplicity and emotional complexity, there was happiness and despair, maternal love and the love of man to woman; these offices dragged their heavy feet lust, castigating and indiscriminately the guilty and the innocent, helpless wives and helpless children; drunkenness enslaved men and women, forcing them to pay tribute to fatal; death filled these rooms with their sighs; they listened to the beating of nascent life, filling the soul of some poor girl with shame and despair. There was neither good nor evil. Only one reality. Life.

He hated her, he despised her, he loved her with all my being.

No man can become more a stranger than someone you loved in the past . Breaks a magic thread connecting it with your imagination. Between you and him another rush of lightning, something flickers like a fading, ghostly stars. But this dead light. It's exciting, but not ignite - the invisible current being interrupted.