no [Theme] Page 253

I saw him and went blind.

You want to live well, you want to live happily – then forget such a thing as justifying yourself. The soldier either did or didn't. There is no third.
If you have a butt happening to you, then you have brought yourself into this ass, and you - no one else - you personally take yourself out of it. And there is no other justice.

Therefore, among the five elements of nature, there is no invariably victorious; among the four seasons, there is no one that remains permanent. The sun has brevity and duration, the moon has life and death.

there is no fire in Hell, everyone comes with his own.

- Tell us what your diet is. Eat fruits and vegetables?
- Yes.
- She eats fast food...
- Do you sleep well?
- Like a groundhog.
- She never sleeps.
- What about sports?
- Regularly.
- Not at all.
- Alcohol?
- Only on holidays.
- She drinks like a horse.

From three words you have a fever. Three words chain you to the bed: change your life. Yes, that's the goal. It's simple and straightforgiving. A road leading to a goal that we don't see. Illness - lack of road, uncertainty in the chosen path. The question is not before us, it is within us. We are the question ourselves. A new life - we would like to start it, but our will, which belongs to our former life, is devoid of any power. We are like children who tend to hold the ball in their left hand and not unclench it until they are convinced that in return they have received a coin in their right hand. We would very much like to start a new life, but at the same time not to lose the old life. Not to know the moment of transition, when there is nothing in your hand.

There is no celebration outside of me.
Only from my arteries
splashes into the world
unclouded,
fierce as the sun at noon,
clean - sun at noon,
Great
happiness.
Franz Wertfollen, "Pax Romana"

There's nothing more annoying than the details. Eighty percent of our lives are rubbish made up of details.

- Mukhich, have you bypassed the Demon ?! Perfectly! And you are not so finished. Tell me quickly where are you? I'll be right there.

Man is mortal until he has a son.

- Tomorrow! I'll give you something tomorrow. It's going to be a surprise.
- Surprise? Ophelia peered at her mother's pale face.
- Yes.
- Is it a book? Ophelia asked.
- Book? Mom laughed softly. - Not a book, no. Much better!
Ophelia did not remind her that for her nothing could be better than a book. Mom won't understand. She does not seek refuge in books, is not transferred to another, magical world. She sees only this world, and even then not always, Ophelia thought. Mom is tightly attached to the ground, which is what she's so sad about. Books could tell her a lot about the world, about distant countries, about animals and plants, about the stars! Book pages can become open windows and doors, on paper wings you can fly away. Maybe my mother just forgot how to fly. Or maybe she never did.

I do not know the feeling of compassion, pity, love. No one is funnier than those who think otherwise. Looking at you - I smile. You all think that I am smiling at you. And in these moments I imagine how I inflict a bleeding wound on you and leave it to live out my life with it. I'm not killing anyone - it's too easy. I watch my victim's torment - your torment - through a microscope. When I zoom in, I see how you writhe and scream in pain, who until recently considered themselves "on horseback". It is at such moments that you show your true colors. And until that hour strikes - the hour of my retribution - you cannot even imagine what humiliations you are ready to go to save your life. But I don't know the feeling of pity.

It is impossible to teach a bad one who does not have a predisposition to it. Just as you can't teach to distinguish colorblind colors.

As I think, how dark and deep there is ... I have sweat on my forehead, which is not there, fucking sweat, which I do not emit.