insight [Theme]

Even a belated insight - spiritual brings joy and satisfaction.

I am not the same shooter for a long time!

We are not fighting the fifth wave. We are the fifth wave.

I considered myself an instrument in the right hand of the Lord, and not a toy in the hands of people.

Only when you stumble do you begin to see what deprivations the weak of this world are experiencing.

But it seems he is getting his sight.

For Hegel, Napoleon Bonaparte is a world spirit on horseback, for Leo Tolstoy, Napoleon is a man-history, personified evil, which is opposed by Nothing, whose prophet is Nobody, Platon Karataev.

I always thought that the empty eye sockets of old houses look at me with reproach as if to say "what have you done to yourself?". I looked at the black window, glaringly contrasting with the white stucco, sometimes cracked, and again he couldn't breathe. They are like a symbol of the subconscious, on the mezzanine which holds many secrets. I wanted to climb over the fence to get into the window of the first floor and turn on the light. Through the door would be easier, but it's locked. You should try the window, to jump in total darkness and sharp movement to deal with her like a band-aid rip off broken knees. First, you can go blind, but very soon your eyes will adjust and see things as they are. Surely there will be tears, but then will come peace, and I'll know exactly what to do next. To live with eyes wide shut is very convenient, but to see clearly is priceless.

But what to do, I can't be the least bit happy, easy, well, in a word, do not understand themselves outside of the painting. I've never loved so nature was not so sensitive to it, I've never felt I divine something spilled all over, but not everyone sees that even can not be called, because it is not amenable to reason, analysis, and attained through love. Without this feeling cannot be a true artist. Many people do not understand, call, perhaps, romantic nonsense - let them! They're the soul of discretion... But this is my insight is for me a source of deep suffering. Could there be anything more tragic, how to feel the endless beauty of the landscape, to notice the sacred mystery, to see God in everything and not be able to, conscious of their weakness, to Express these large feelings...

In a long year when I'm lying in bed already did not hope that I will one day come, I learned from the early morning chirping of sparrows outside the window, and from the rays of moonlight passing through the window in my room, and all the steps, reaching to my ears, a great tale of life, understand the Holy sanctity of life. And when at last I stood up, my soul became free like the wind in the field, one no longer had power over her, in addition to creativity, and creativity has blossomed riotous color.

And the darkness - like a shadow from the light,
And light - like the reflection of darkness.
Was there a day? And night is it?
Don't sleep if someone's vague we?
Look at all seeing eye
And as my rest strangely quiet
Look at your mouth, which
Seal kisses are not mine.

Those that have seen the light, sometimes you have to escape, pretending to be blind passengers.

We are always too late to see clearly.

I have never had the courage to seek the truth without the inspiration of his anger because of your lies.