feelings [Theme] Page 310
It was the passions about whose origin we misunderstand, heaviest dominate us. And weakest motives were those of whose nature we understand. And often a person imagines that he's experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves.
Such has been my fate since childhood. All read on my face a sign of bad feelings, which were not; but they assumed - and they were born. I was modest -- I was accused of slyness: I became secretive. I deeply felt the good and evil; I will not be caressed, all offended: I was vindictive; I was gloomy - other children merry and talkative; I felt above them, I put below. I became envious. I was ready to love the whole world, - to me no one understood and I learned to hate. My colourless youth leaked in fight against itself and light; my best feelings, fearing ridicule, I buried in my heart: they died there. I was telling the truth - I was not believed: I began to deceive; to know well the light and the springs of society, I became skilled in the science of life and seen others to be happy using the gift of all the advantages which I so tirelessly sought. And then in my chest born of despair - not the despair that treat the barrel of a gun, but a cold, impotent despair, covered with courtesy and good-natured smile. I became a moral cripple; one half of my soul did not exist, it dried up, evaporated, died, I cut it off and threw it, then another moved and lived here for everybody, and nobody noticed because nobody knew about the existence of the lost of half of it.
In the hearts of simple sense the beauty and grandeur of nature are stronger, move a hundred times than us, enthusiastic tellers in words and on paper.
The great aim of every human being is to realize love. Love is not in another, and in ourselves, and we do it in himself awaken. But in order for her to awaken and need this other. The universe finds sense only in that case if we have someone to share our feelings.
In the world there is pain, hatred, joy, love, and war, because we want them to be. We need this tragedy to prepare for trial by meeting with death, ever.
All of our thoughts are someone else's. Because it is impossible to concentrate. Just sit down and calmly think it won't work. Some noise will leak. The singers screamed. Dead laugh. Actors cried in a voice. All those emotions in small doses.
Someone always sprays in the air your mood.
Radio in the cars spill around someone's grief, someone's anger or joy.
What's the use to tell if still never fails to describe their feelings.
Self-importance requires that we spend most of our lives offended by someone.
without this feeling we are invincible.
