gusts [Theme]

He constantly restrained himself. Under the guise of hostile submission, offended feelings were seething within him. He was indignant, as if scoundrels had a right to be indignant. The rage that never gave him a moment's peace never showed itself outwardly. He was able to endure any insult. He was tormented by dark gusts of anger and devoured by the ever-smoldering flame in his soul, but no one even knew about it. Barkilphedro was secretly choleric, but he always smiled. He was courteous, helpful, courteous and obsequious. He bowed to everyone and everyone. The slightest breath of wind would bend him to the ground. It is easy to achieve happiness for someone who has a flexible reed instead of a spinal column.

Sometimes we become so obsessed with technology that it kills our best creative impulses. Remember - to share art, you need to be vulnerable, to be imperfect. And in most cases it is much more interesting.

Poetry - dawns and sunsets spiritual fruits. Silence and tenderness are spiritual impulses.

Get rid of shameful fear.

Children cannot be condemned to life in this world. It is impossible to perpetuate suffering and breed lustful animals that have no strong feelings, only impulses, whims that throw them over the waves.

A little meekness, and we will be happy!

Everyone determines his own greatness for himself. If in a glass of water with 100% probability there is a molecule that was once in the body of a dinosaur, then in our bodies there are molecules belonging to once great and brilliant people. It depends only on us - we will give odds to these molecules or repay their impulses, leaving with laziness one on one.

But be able to and you will be able to recoup your soul
To all who seek and ask for fate,
To all who die in the struggle, who are overwhelmed by need,
Who is tired of thunderstorms and bad weather.
Learn to love selflessly and holyly,
Crown the young impulses, -
And the warmth you will work and live
In this world, fights and profits.

Relax over the poet's page.

I don’t care about holding back my worst impulses. I don't care about making the world a better place. Fuck this world.

No, Eleanor, I told myself. - Restrain your rebellious impulses. Stick to tea, coffee and vodka.

The hearts of people sometimes beat in unison, then over time they can go astray. The impulses of the human soul do not fit into the framework of habits, common sense, the law, a person's soul is mobile, and he flies freely, as soon as he flaps his wings. Likewise, migratory birds know no boundaries.

Sex without boundaries devastates and leads away from life, extinguishes all impulses. Passionate love fills, makes you feel life sharply and strongly, stimulates creativity.

In the life of every thinking man there comes a time when he looks back at the past and asks himself what he is and in mental, moral and physical, and financially. It happens when reckless youth gusts are already behind when first independent steps and the efforts already made and all he was striving for and have achieved, is getting in your eyes wrong and fragile. And in the minds of many creeps in the searing soul the idea about the vanity of life - the idea that best expressed the book of Ecclesiastes.