metaphor [Theme] Page 5

To take the fortress is not difficult, difficult campaign to win. And it is not necessary to storm and attack, and you need patience and time. Kamenskiy on the Ruse of soldiers were sent, and I alone (patience and time) sent and took more fortresses. But, darling: no more of those two warriors are patience and time; those will make everything.

Costumes French, French ideas, French feelings! You are here Mative to sew up expelled, because he is a Frenchman and a scoundrel, but our ladies crawl after him on all fours. Yesterday evening I was so out of five ladies three Catholic and a papal dispensation Sunday on the canvas sewing. And they themselves sit almost naked, like the signboards shopping baths, so to speak. Oh, look at our young people, Prince, would take the old cudgel of Peter the Great Kunstkamera, Yes in Russian would be broken off the sides, all the crap would come off!

But the perseverance can only envy: whatever he came across a bowl of water or incorrectly calculated the height, leaping onto a chair, whatever was beating on the leg of the table, forgetting about her, he continued to go forward. He seemed to be saying to myself: "There is on the other side of the barriers, there is a place I must go there waiting for me feats that without me nobody can do." In search of that place and tossed our hero. Moreover, he even invented my own characters and wrote their myths about the gods. Why? Then, the myths and the need to explain the unexplainable. He was Odysseus. And he was a blind storyteller, who invented the Odyssey and life to him seemed endless epic because of the boundaries he simply didn't see.

Sometimes it happens: you Wake up in the middle of the night dying of thirst and all you need now is a SIP of milk. You rise from the bed, dipped his feet in the darkness, wincing in pain and limping stomp to the fridge. You open it and you are blinded by the light. You're saved. And here you open the package, take a deep breath, put a cardboard edge to the lips. And suddenly - damn - milk, turns sour. You, to put it mildly, not in the spirit. You close the package and put it back. Again the darkness around you. In the darkness you wandered to my old bed and think: "maybe the milk is still not quite sour?" You turn around and return to the refrigerator. The light again shines on you. You take a SIP, but, hell, the milk's gone bad hopelessly. It's a good metaphor for all the relationships in which I have ever been.

When we were young souls
On the junk-yard
Now we are stunned minds
Full of junk-goods.
But I feel your heartbeat
Just like mine
I feel your heartbeat
All the time.
Being young,
We spent time at the dump,
And now, our head is full of those
That we have full of all sorts of unnecessary things.
But I feel your heartbeat
The same as his.
I keep feeling
As your heart beats.

- "New York times," "Washington Post"... How can I compete with that?
- We need creativity. When you are a little fish - do you see what miss big fish because they're too busy flirting with each other.

Metaphors? I hate metaphors. That's why my favorite book is "Moby dick" - no froufrou symbolism, just a good, simple story about a man who hates an animal.

Tiamat is the ID, the subconscious, and Marduk is the ego, the consciousness, the tip of the iceberg. A person has many personalities, roles, other "gods Pantheon", the reflection of the Ego. When the child reaches the stage of development when it begins to distinguish between the real and unreal - Marduk thinks he conquered Tiamat, and Tiamat is wrong... is all that man is accustomed to repress out of consciousness: nightmares, the natural cruelty, the darkness and blood and death and mortido. Tiamat is the unconscious of all mankind.

- My friend and attendant, attendant-grades.
And so together we are about the birds now sing.
- What is it about birds, nikanorovna?
What about all the famous people who khristoforovna.
Raven with a Check mark sitting on Suchocka next.
And the Tick looks a speaking glance.
- No manual Raven bird, khristoforovna.
- It means he wants to priuchatsya, nikanorovna.

The best trick of the devil is to convince you that it does not exist.

- You want to be the one to ride your "balls"? In short, "clean the gun"?
- To clean the gun? This to me makes the Joan.
- Well, Yes...
- What!? No! Mr. hunt, I assure you, I never...

- Go to the movies?
What? Um... I'm free only at weekends, and...
- No, come on now?
- And suddenly you're a serial killer?!
- Yes, it is quite possible... Come on, hazel grace, take a chance.
- You what? It's awful!
What?
- You think it's cool, or what? You ruined it.
- All?
- Yes, everything. And so all was well. Without Hamachi does not? Your like that you have cancer, but are you ready to enrich tobacco companies to get more cancer. You know, the inability to breathe is awful. Really horrible.
Hamartia?
- Fatal flaw.
- Ah, fatal. Hazel grace, they don't hurt while they're not lit.
- M?
- I don't turn on. It is a metaphor. You put the thing that kills between your teeth but don't give the chance to kill you. Metaphor.

In the evening, in a long and gentle summer dusk, people came out of the apartments, walking dogs, drinking cocktails by the pool, legs dangling in the water. The moon appeared, crouching in the impossible blue of the horizon. <...> I wanted to permanently freeze this moment chime, the quiet lapping of the water, the clanking of dog chains, laughter coming from the pool, the rustle of the ink pen mother, the smell of eucalyptus, the peace and quiet. It would be good to close it all in the locket and hang it on the neck. It would be good in this perfect moment we were attacked by a millennial dream, like Sleeping beauty's castle.