night [Theme] Page 2
And it seems I won't find my way home.
Breathing life into the suit again.
As long as they don't go back to where they were.
Do not be afraid to look God's Truth in the eye, brushing aside doubts!
No matter how black the shadows of the night are, not all of them hide monsters.
When a programmer says “I'll just be a minute,” it usually means he'll be working all night.
- Oh, your grace, what else do they need? After all, they don’t each have two bodies.
On the night before Christmas, all evil spirits rush about the earth.
Living without fairy tales is somehow wrong. Even very adult and serious people. Especially now.
Will come with dawn.
It snowed all day. I stood at the window and watched happy snowflakes slowly fly by. There are things that you don’t want to let go of because they give you beauty and peace. They also take us back to a fairy tale, to childhood. I remember, when I was little, I built huge snow cave-houses in the snowdrifts and hid there, believing that no one would ever find me. And these unusual secret flowers that you put under a piece of glass in the summer, so that in winter you can find a magical daisy or even a rose somewhere under a tree. In the evening there is another blizzard, and it’s so nice to be in a warm house next to your grandmother, who tells her amazing stories. The wood is crackling in the fireplace, but the fire slowly goes to sleep overnight. And the next morning you wake up early, when it’s still dark outside the window, and you quietly admire how the snow is falling, large white flakes, like butterflies, fly onto the glass, selflessly kissing it and lying on the ledge. And around there is a white, white planet. My favorite winter...
It's time to ask the question: “What will grow if you plant your heart?”
Here there is day and night in a circle.
But no one had yet been able to get to the bottom of what was most captivating in it: it was the mysterious ability of the soul to perceive in life only what once attracted and tormented in childhood, at that time when the soul’s sense of smell is unmistakable; look for the funny and touching; to constantly feel unbearable, tender pity for a creature living helplessly and miserably, to feel, a thousand miles away, how in some Sicily a thin-legged donkey with a shaggy belly is being roughly beaten. When she actually met the offended creature, there was a feeling of a legendary eclipse, when an inexplicable night sets in, and ashes fly, and blood appears on the walls - and it seemed that if now - right now - you don’t help, you won’t be able to stop someone else’s torment , the existence of which in such a world conducive to happiness is impossible to explain, she herself will suffocate, die, her heart will not stand it. And therefore she lived in constant secret excitement, constantly anticipating a new hobby or a new pity, and they said about her that she adores dogs and is always ready to lend money - and listening to petty rumors, she felt like in childhood, during that game when you leave the room, and others invent various opinions about you. And among the players, among those to whom she came out after being in the next room (where you sit, waiting to be called, and honestly hum something, so as not to overhear, or open a random book, and, like a released spring, it jumps out a piece of a novel, the end of an incomprehensible conversation), among these people, whose opinion it was necessary to guess, there was now a man, rather silent, heavy on his feet, completely unknown what he thought about her.
- Sorry no. You see, I'm starting to like you, and if I go for a walk with you, it will go even further and in the end it will all end in love. At first everything will be fine. But someday the day will come and thunder will strike - bang! You will call me a “crazy egoist”, you will tear out your hair and scream that you don’t want to see me anymore. And I'll be left with a broken heart! I don't need that kind of happiness!
