Character: Darley

She desperately, to the arrogance of the proud to be unhappy.

I'll give my book the will to dream and to dream.

I knew he was unhappy, even if he wasn't, then faking would be unfortunate from a pure sense of duty. In our day the man simply has no right not to cultivate personal tragedic...

He realized that people walking down the street hand in hand with Reputation and not with the person's Name killed him like a tombstone.

The seeds of future events we carry within ourselves. They lie in wait until the time and suddenly start to increase after their own laws.

And why are the writers trying from the beginning to saturate the whole world with their own flour?

If the war had not been a possibility to die, it was the opportunity to grow up, really vnuchata in stagnant smell of life and to learn to accept change.

It would be simply absurd to deny the simple truth that death (even vague, just dissolved in the air) makes the kissing more and adds barely tolerated spice in every smile, every handshake.

I started to slowly understand that the truth itself is refreshing and gives strength - a cold shower, the wave, which each time pushes you a little closer to your own essence to fulfillment.

Do not depend everything from our interpretation of the prevailing silence around us?

A lot of sincere love, when not generated by the passion and sympathy; and it leaves no wounds.

If she had ever really see my soul, she would have realized that for those of us who are able to feel deeply and who are aware of the inevitable limitations of human thought, there is only one answer - ironic tenderness and silence.

... there we sat and talked, not guilty of anything, but our conversation was already fraught with glimpses of the attractions - they seemed happy just signs of friendship.