insensitivity [Theme] Page 5

Not feel - sometimes the only way to survive.

- When?
- When, what?
- When you started killing people?
- I always got killed...
- So you killed many...
Well...don't know how much...
And you don't feel guilty, you don't have nightmares, you're not the least bit contrite?
I don't know... I just know that the bad people die and the good live.
- Who decides this? How can you know good or bad person you killed?
- They are bad, so they hate them... And order me killing them.
- What about you? All those whom you murdered, hate you... doesn't that mean that you're bad?
They... don't know me.

There's nothing that burns like you.
There is nothing that burns like you.

"Oh," retorted Estella, - I have, of course, is the heart in the sense that it can be pierced with a knife or shoot. And of course, if it stopped beating, I would have died. But you know what I mean. I have no soft - no hard feelings... sentiments... stupid.

After what happened to me? Cupids can istituti me arrows, and I won't feel a thing.

Everything in this world is uprooted, stuck in a lifeless gray, the air, everything is kept in one breath, short and weak. Why is my heart not made of stone?

You, sir, stone sir, ice.

... and by the way I love cherries and kittens with baby rabbits... and hearts to love. chicken. under sour-sweet sauce. so I'm not that unfeeling.

I've learned to live without feelings. In an empty building without warmth, comfort. One web of the past and the endless stream of guests. Come, let's go. No delay, not even a Hello...

If you do not take the world to heart, it will not break...

I often want to tear his chest and brain because people so little able to give each other. Alas, if me no love, joy, excitement and heat, the other will not give them to me, and whether my heart is full of bliss, I will not make happy the one who stands in front of me, feeling numb and powerless.

No one will be upset if you die because you're already dead. You have an unfeeling heart...

Thinking about the near and possible death, I think of one yourself: other do not and this. Friends, that tomorrow I will be forgotten or, worse, erect to my account God knows what fiction; women who are embracing another, will laugh at me, so as not to excite in him the jealousy of the dead, - God bless them! Of life's storm I carried only a few ideas - and no feelings. I long since don't live with your heart and head. I weighed, dismantled their own passions and actions with severe curiosity, but without.