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- There's nothing wrong with sentimentality if it can save your life.

- No, I'm talking about my future.

There is no light in the world of villains, only the shadow of their own blindness.

I understand what the birds are singing about, but unfortunately you don’t.

When you are in love, you have no face and you survive because you are very naked, vulnerable, but you are really real. No reservation.

How cold it is now, feelings have faded and there is no fire.

- According to the law, changing age is illegal.

- In the name of the organization Boys

- No. Just stay on the bottom. Let's take a break at the bottom.

- Eat. Look at the second one.

There is no happiness in life, there are only flashes of it. Appreciate them, live by them. Don't expect much from life. You won't have a better time than now...

And now I will have to kill again, like a thousand times before on this shore, because I have no other choice. My snakes and the goddess will not allow anything else. Once upon a time people came to me for help, for advice. Now they come to make me a killer, again and again.

Chamomile didn’t care at all that she was such a poor, simple flower that no one sees or notices in the thick grass; no, she was happy with everything, greedily reached out to the sun, admired it and listened to the lark singing somewhere high, high in the sky.

There is no one in the house. A dog wind blows in all the cracks (why a dog wind?). In general, the wind is a fool: it blows in a bare park, and there’s nothing there to pick. In the yard I still deal with it somehow: I’ll stand with my back to the wind, my head down, my legs apart - and “I don’t give a damn,” as the gardener says. And you can’t hide anywhere from this bandit in the room. He bursts from under the door, through the window cracks, through the fireplace hole, and squeaks, and whines, and howls, as if his mother were a dog. He has no muzzle, no throat, no belly, no backside. I can’t figure out what he’s blowing...