street [Theme]

I will teach you to love the street.

Even the noisiest street in Calcutta could not drown out the quiet happiness that Killian and I felt in each other's presence.

Now remember: you are now a boy, you are now from the street, and there are enemies all around.

The street was free until those who broke the rules appeared on it.

Dropping dreams...

Positivity is a two-way street. The more positive thoughts you radiate, the more positive energy you receive back.

My street is just an ashtray.

The street is a book, without reading which one cannot understand other books.

But I remember sitting with my mother in a restaurant in New York just after (Hiroshima), peering into the city, and knowing how big the Hiroshima bomb was and what a huge area it destroyed, in fact, knowing everything about it, I suddenly thought : “What if we drop it around 34th Street?” It will cover the area where we are sitting - I think it was 59th Street - and all the people will be killed, all the buildings will be destroyed, and there are more than one such bomb. It is easy to continue their production - and all life on earth will be doomed. This thought occurred to me very early, earlier than other, more optimistic people.

Yes, I am the city and I live for you.

Looking at these seemingly fake colorful buildings, trying to understand why I don't like them? Everything around is clean and tidy, the territory is not yet polluted with human waste, mothers with strollers are leisurely strolling along smooth asphalt sidewalks, and even pigeons, on my suspicions, are embarrassed to shit on the windshields of cars. Utopia, and nothing more. Usually any space where I am evokes a gamut of emotions in me, but not this time. There is only emptiness. If you blow it, the houses will collapse, like in a fairy tale about three pigs. There is no story here that firmly binds every tree, every lamppost to its place, pours from windows, penetrates road cracks and endows objects with a soul.

- ... Apparently he was left on the stirrup while the two accomplices continued their search. I didn't know what to do next," Jamie said, rubbing his nose, "of course, I was safe in the shop, but I could not get out of there, I would immediately be noticed.
He turned around nervously, smoothing the scarlet fabric of the kielta on his knees.
- So what did you do? I asked.
"I bought a sausage," he simply replied.
More precisely, it was Dundin. This delicacy was prepared from duck meat with the addition of ham and lenison, all this was boiled, stuffed into the intestine and dried in the sun. The result was a sausage eighteen inches long, hard, like oak wood.
"I couldn't come out with a naked sword," Jamie continued. - On the other hand, I didn't want to pass by that guy in the proulka without weapons either.
***
"I definitely broke his nose," he said thoughtfully. - Anyway, this scoundrel recoiled, I slipped past him and started running down Pelletier Street.
Passers-by with screams ran away, just a flock of frightened geese: the sight of a huge Scotsman rushing down the street in a fluttering kilt could frighten anyone. Jamie didn't stop or wrap himself up - it was clear from the indignant screams coming from behind that the pursuers were still chasing him.
The Royal Guards rarely patrolled the streets of the area, and there was no need to wait for help from others, except that the hustle and bustle on the street could slightly delay the pursuers. Who wants to interfere in street showdowns, especially for the sake of some foreigner.
"The street there is straight, without any branches," Jamie said. - And I certainly needed to run to the place where you could bare the sword and press your back against the wall. On the run, I pushed the locked doors. Finally lucky - one was open.
Breaking into the semi-dark hallway, Jamie raced past the bewilded porter, then, throwing back the curtain, was in the center of a large, well-lit hall. It was the salon of the notorious Madame Eliza, he realized this when the tickling smell of perfume hit his nostrils.
"I understand," I said and bit my lip. - I hope you didn't have to pull out the sword there?
Jamie squinted slightly and replied evasively:
- I guess, Englishwoman, you have a strong imagination to imagine the effect of my sudden appearance in a brothel, and even with a huge sausage in hand.
Imagination did not fail, I laughed.

My opinion is considered as an axiom. In a word, glory pours like a street sweeper sweeps the street.

For someone who was born not so long ago, it is difficult to distinguish a real misfortune from a premonition of misfortune, or maybe it is not necessary. Adults live today in anticipation of tomorrow and leaving behind yesterday, the day before yesterday, the maximum of the last week - they are not enough for more. But children do not know what “yesterday”, “the day before yesterday” or “tomorrow” is - for them there is only “here and now”: here is the street, here is the door, here is the staircase, this is mom, this is dad, this is the day, this is night.