Character: Octave

When you see an actor relishes a product in a commercial, you know that he never swallows him, and spits in the basin, barely stopped shooting.

To turn humanity into slavery, advertising chose the path of corrosive skillful suggestion. This is the first in the history of the system of domination of man over man, which is powerless against even freedom. Moreover, it is this system - made freedom their weapons, and that's the genius of her discovery.

In fact Orwell did the right thing, that is over consumption. Thanks to her, he didn't get to see to what extent he was right.

The throb of the blood in the arteries - a strange clock ticking we hear only night.

To be with people you love, says La Bruyere, is all we need. To dream, to talk to them, be silent near them, think about them, think about things more indifferent, but in their presence, ' what does it matter, what to do, just to be with them.

I do not like and do not respect the sadness, though people just conspired to make her a special honor. They clothe in her wisdom, virtue, conscience. Stupid and bad decoration.

Some life events are similar to those powerful currents, which are found in the depths of the sea. Fate, coincidence, Providence - does it matter what to call them?

I wandered through the dark streets; I looked at all those lighted Windows, all of these mysterious nests, which made their people, on the passing of the carriages, scurrying passers-by. Oh, what loneliness! How sad the smoke on those roofs! What sorrow in those tortuous streets where all are marking time, work and toil, where many unfamiliar people walking, touching elbow each other, - the cloaca, which communicate only the body, leaving the soul alone.

Take the love that a sober man takes wine. Don't become a drunk.

Thank God for what he shows you heaven, and do not consider yourself a bird just because you want to wave your wing.

But do not confound wine with intoxication, do not consider the divine chalice from which you drink the divine drink. Finding it in the evening empty and broken, do not be surprised. This woman, this fragile vessel made by the Potter out of clay.

Can you make yourself an idea about something that has no end, you, born yesterday, and doomed to die tomorrow?..

So, I was free - no inclination to laziness, and according to his will, loving besides all created by God and very little of what man has created.

Perfection my friend, just not created for us and infinity. Do not look for it in anything, don't need to demand it from anything: neither love, nor beauty, nor happiness, nor virtue. But you have to love it to be as virtuous, beautiful and happy as humanly possible.