the herd [Theme]

And with them I feel like one of my own!

A characteristic feature of the crowd is that in it a person loses his individuality. This is also true for a flock of sheep: the herd instinct makes each of them go where the others go.

Everywhere he, the eldest prince's son, was persistently questioned about the past, present and future. They tried to help and escorted us along the most convenient paths. And they rejoiced at the sight of him as much as Lutomer had not expected, knowing about his frightening glory. It’s simple: if a wolf attacks a herd, it’s good to have another wolf on your side.

In detective novels, when we read them... have you ever wondered why we so want the detective to solve the mystery and find the criminal? “Perhaps,” she says, not at all because we want revenge to be taken or for the killings to stop. Maybe what we really want is for the criminal to reform. The detective is the killer's savior. Imagine Jesus chasing you, trying to catch you and save your soul. That he is not just a passive and patient God, but a corrosive and aggressive bloodhound. We want the criminal to repent in court. Or on death row, surrounded by people like him. The detective is the shepherd, and we want the criminal, the prodigal sheep, to return to the fold, to return to us. We love him. We miss him. We want to wrap our arms around him and hold him to our chest.

- Yes, a herd of two. And you are the leader.

- Yes, you went with your confused teachings! Be silent if you can't just say: Do it

There are a ton of stupid ideas, warmly received by society, but rejected by one sage. Why? Society in its nature is a stupid, organized herd that is led to what it wants to be led to.

if a man is a ram, then no matter what lioness spins around him, he will still always choose a herd of sheep and grass.

Thoughts are like a herd of elephants in a china shop.

It always seemed to me - in general, always - that I was crushed in the street by horses.

Ichthyander was exhausted, the cutting pains in his sides intensified. The thirst was tormented. Not a drop of water around. “If only there was a pond,” Ichthyander thought. His cheeks and eyes sunken in, he was breathing heavily. I wanted to eat. But what is there to eat here? Far away in the meadow a herd of sheep was grazing under the protection of a shepherd and dogs. Branches of peach and orange trees hung over the stone fence, with ripe fruits on them. It's not like the ocean here. Here everything is alien, everything is divided, everything is fenced off, everything is guarded. Only free birds of a draw, fly, scream along the road. But they can't be caught. Is it still possible to catch these birds? Perhaps they belong to someone else. Here it is easy to die of hunger and thirst among pools, gardens and herds.

You, in general, remember - there is no monarchy in the sublunar world. There are two forms of power - tyranny and anarchy. And in the West now there is one perversion. The foundation of their democracy is the belief that a herd of donkeys can be smarter than a single drover. Their very democracy is the belief that a herd of donkeys can be controlled by several drivers, but in reality everything is one hypocrisy, because one herd has one driver, otherwise, you yourself understand - confusion. Another thing is when donkeys finally become people, but before that even the great-grandchildren of our descendants will not live.

If there is a herd of rams, there will always be a donkey that will take the queue.

If you believed in me, if you believed in me.