Character: Taras Bulba

And turning it on, son!

You know, the infamous bastards on our land; I think only that they were bread Rick, ricks da horse herd them, would be intact in the cellars of sealed honey them. Adopt the devil knows what busurmanskie customs; shun his tongue; with his do not want to speak; your your sells, how to sell a soulless creature on the trade market. The mercy of a foreign king, and not the king, and foul mercy of the Polish magnate, which is yellow chobotom your beats them in the face, more expensive for them all fraternity. But in the lowest of bastards, what he does there, though all he rolled around in soot and poklonnichestvo, and that there is, my friends, the grain of Russian feeling. And it will Wake up one day and hit it, hapless, by hands on the floor, grabbed a his head, cursed loudly despicable his life, ready to torment to atone for a shameful act. Let all of them know what it means in the Russian land Association! For that matter, to die - so anyone W of them shall so die!.. Anyone, anyone!.. Not enough from them to the nature of their mouse!

I gave birth to you, I'll kill you!

No, brothers, to love as the Russian soul, to love not through reason or the other, and all that God has given that neither is in you, and... - said Taras, and waved his hand, and shook white hair and mustache, blinked, and said: - No, because no one can love!

He is still not a good soldier, who has not lost spirit in an important case, and he is a good soldier, who and idleness will not soskochit, who all suffer, and even though you tell him that Hoch, and he still put on his.

Don't have a bond holier partnership! The father loves his child, the mother loves her child, a child loves his father and mother. But that's not something brothers: and the beast loves her child. But to become related by kinship of mind, not of blood, maybe only one person.