frost [Theme] Page 1

And the frost is not terrible - if the soul is warm.

Everybody constantly insists that dry frost is better than wet frost, but for me - cold is cold. Minus 13 is minus 13, and you can't go anywhere.

The frost is respected, and the frostbitten is beaten

Wild Goblin

If it breaks, you yourself know: wrap in a wet sheet or piss and in the cold!

- If you ask him for strength.

I sat and listened to the frost crackling ...

I will never forget you!!!

We often treat ourselves and others as follows: let the talents manifest themselves, let our cause be found. Let Santa Claus fall from the sky and give five hundred Eskimo. But always, always remember this beautiful phrase: God has no other hands but ours. And if we spit on ourselves, buried our own talents in the ground, then who is to blame?

- Santa Claus cannot put happiness under the tree.

Frost will eat up the roots, and He will fall.

Know, feel - it work
And she is sometimes tired.
Waves of emotions like acid:
Overdo - everything in my soul will burn.
Bright sun, hot summer,
Persistent cold, prickly February
It's not just the seasons of the planet,
And the proof that you're alive.
A storm of emotions. Give them a way out,
Give them out!
Scream, hug!
Let the pack of Panthers and snails.
Don't lock them in - let go!

If you woke up in April
And the window frost,
This does not mean that we need to hurry
To fall into suspended animation.
If you woke up in April
And the window plague
This does not mean that life is greyer
And that your home is a prison.
If you woke up in April
Be calm, Shine.
Soon will bloom all the trees.
Happiness, it's inside.
In every moment you see your life
Be positive and good.
Don't even think that this is a crisis.
This is a new beginning.

I spent almost all my childhood, increasing immune to the callousness of my father and his precious way of life. But no matter how much effort you exert, how long you stick to it, from everything you're not insured. Because you never know when you will hit the following Christmas. Or how Sizzling it will be cold.
As much as I'd like to lie down and let the Arctic fog swirls above me, I feel like something is stuck in my chest. Icicles fell. They pierced the skin. A direct hit.
And I hate myself for how weak I am and sensitive. I despise my own vulnerability.