leather [Theme] Page 2

- Do you think she's a witch? Kip whispered in her ear. Molly smiled back:
- If it's a witch, it's not dangerous... Look, she doesn't have a single wart! And the witch is immediately recognizable by the warts.

I do not like more and more that in our unceremonious age, private life shrinks like shagreen skin. Social networks, the Internet, cameras on the street, in the entrances, controlling every step. And it doesn't matter if you are an ordinary person or more or less famous.

Her thoughts, his thoughts in a single imagination.

...

- Hold on. Are you injured? Did it hurt you? Do what I tell you to do. Just what I say. Don't move if I don't say. Don't tell me until I say.
I got it? Do you understand?
- Yes. Just don't do anything to me.
- I'm here to help you. My name is Reese. Sergeant "Tech-Com". Battalion DN38416. My job is to protect you. You have to be killed.
- That's a mistake. I didn't do anything. How could that person after you shot him...
- No, but you can. It is very important that you stay alive. It's not a person. It's a machine. Terminator. The system is one hundred and one.
- Machine? Like a robot, what?
- Not a robot. Cyborg is a cybernetic organism. The Terminator is half human, half machine. Electronic filling. Controlled by a microprocessor. Outside - a living organism. Flesh, skin, hair, blood - specially grown for cyborgs. The six hundred series had rubber leather. We recognized them right away. But these are new. They're almost like people. They sweat, they smell from their mouths... They are very difficult to recognize.
Cyborgs don't feel pain. And I feel. Don't do that anymore. Listen! Understand! Terminator out there somewhere. He cannot be persuaded. You can't negotiate with him. He doesn't feel sorry. He has no remorse or fear. He will never stop until he kills you.

Light skin and eyes came to us from the ancient Scandinavians. Hairy savages who hacked their gods into pieces and hung meat from trees. We are the ones who plundered Rome. Those who are afraid only of old age and death in their own bed.

rest in warmth and comfort.

- Jews don't change their faith! By wetting his head, Jesus did not wash the Jew out of himself. Nationality doesn't dissolve in water, Mortle. This is your skin, from birth to death. Well, and religion, say, is a coat. It gets too hot, take it and take it off.

At night, your skin glows like a shell from the inside. It does not absorb light, it reflects it.

One thing I'm sure for sure: we can only be hurt where our skin is thin and our nerves are exposed. If the phrases hit the target, we instinctively want to defend ourselves - we snap back.

And f ... love.

Zoe sat in a chair for visitors at the table. Mancuso sat on the other side, turning the chair sideways. She stared at the aquarium standing at the far wall in deep concentration. Chef Mancuso was a spectacular woman: smooth, almost untouched by age yellowish-brown skin, combed back black hair with silvery-white strands. She sat sideways and the mole on her lip was staring exactly at Zoe.
She looked at the subject of the chief's fascination. The interior of the aquarium often changed, following the whims of Mancuso. Now it resembled a dense forest, clusters of algae stained the water in green and turquoise. Flocks of yellow, orange and lilac fish lazily swam back and forth.
- Something with the fish? Zoe asked.
"Belinda is depressed today," Mancuso mumbled. I think she's angry that Timothy is swimming with Rebecca and Jasmine.
- Well... maybe Timothy just needs a little rest, Zoe suggested.
- Timothy is a bask.

- You need to see this. Well, what diagnosis will you deliver?
- Hmm.
- ...
- Mne-uh... skin and bones. Emaciated, while waiting for your dinner. In this hotel is terrible service. Don't count on a tip, young man!

- And why is that, pray tell people, as if specially produced toilet paper, more like a foil?
- The hearts of our people as hard as stone, mockingly picked up Roger. - Well, behinds - stainless steel. I think this contributes to the formation of the national character.
In this case, perhaps, the Scots generally devoid of nerve endings, with a laugh added Claire. - People able to ride in kilts, the skin on the back is not inferior in strength to that used to make saddles!