conversations [Theme]

We always put off the most important conversations for later, fearing to remain incomprehensible, fearing that we will not be accepted.

The vast majority of people (though not all) view reading as a social activity: it is important for them to share their experiences related to the book and discuss its characters. If the teacher does not have enough time for this, he must “borrow” time from other subjects that are not as important and universal as reading, that is, from everyone else. But if your child really wants to talk to you about a book, try to be sensitive and accommodate his need. Postponing the discussion until the next day means missing out on a great opportunity to understand how the book resonated with your child, and what connections he had from what he read to his own life. You can discuss childhood experiences and anxieties through the prism of what is happening with the characters, in connection with the development of the plot. The most serious conversations I have had with children about their own lives occurred while or after reading aloud to them.

Sometimes it seemed to her that Walter liked this most of all - long conversations, similar to wandering in the thicket of a forest. When, no matter what path you choose, you still won’t find a way out. When, trying not to go astray, you only get stuck deeper in the swampy soil.

All conversations about the need for a full, fruitful life also come down to this question: what does a person get from life? Maximum pleasure - spiritual, emotional and aesthetic.

Not

- Well, you said it! - Zimobor did not get angry, but laughed, as if he had heard utter stupidity. -Have you seen the sun? Have you noticed that winter and summer alternate, that people are born and die, like grass and trees, like the stars themselves? And if you have seen all this, how can you say that there are no gods? Doesn't this mean denying the obvious?

Here it is - winter!..

I hear words, but talking is not proof.

If you always speak up first and don't give other people a chance to speak, it could be a sign that you're being intrusive. Be mindful of how you enter into conversations and make sure you respect other people's rights to speak out.

During our childhood, money was not elevated to a cult. Now we have constant conversations about money on television, on the radio, and in the press. And you realize with horror that this is becoming the norm.

Why did Americans fight against the poor? Against those who are easiest to kill? Deprive yourself of the essentials? We've already asked ourselves... Was this a fight against communism? Or were the politicians' motives veiled? Or misunderstood? George Cannan, a leading strategist of the early Cold War, got to the point in a 1948 National Security Council memorandum: “The United States owns half of the world's wealth. We inevitably provoke envy and resentment. Our main task is to build relationships with other countries that will allow us to maintain this imbalance. To achieve this, we will have to give up dreams and sentiments. We will have to stop talking about such vague and unrealistic things as human rights, improving living standards and democratization. We will have to deal with clear concepts of power. And the less we cling to idealistic slogans, the better.”

If you keep empty talk for a long time, you start to croak.

- The right question. Why? Who and how is for the public. Oswald, Ruby, the mafia... It's all salon talk, it distracts people from the main question - "Why?" Why was Kennedy assassinated? Who benefited?

But that's the tricky part of depression. It is unlikely that she will allow you to draw cards from her. She won't tell you where you're going. You can have forests and I can have swamps. The most important thing is to keep moving. No map and no compass. Sometimes you won't even have real truth as a guide. You just have to move on. Along the way, you'll find something to hold onto. Hope. Good talk. People who will stay with you until the morning. Find something that you can tightly squeeze in your hand. For me, it was a yellow towel sent by my mother.