New Quotes ( page 30904)
At all. No. Sense.
... Opened his mouth to report it, but it did not make sense, so I closed my mouth and fell silent for many hours...
You don't have the patience to wait when I grow up. As no patience I have to wait until you grow up.
When the best words have been said, all possible tricks done, beautiful treatments, and head turns are demonstrated, then this is it "love".
The right to sing sad songs belongs not to those who have occasion for sadness, and the one whose voice sounds sadly. The one who wakes up in tears, unable to remember why.
We talked about death, we endlessly talked about death, until he died of the word.
The strange thing about such a short acquaintance. Usually they happen on the road, but at times are waiting for us in his hometown. We meet someone, talking, eating and drinking, sometimes fighting, sometimes having sex, and parted forever. But casual drinking buddy with whom you first became friends, and then told each other things, and bored, a young conductor with whom you share a bed under the clatter of wheels, and, in a more prosaic version, Katusha you in a few hours the taxi driver - they all shards failed destiny.
With boon companion you have quarreled so much that he stabbed you. Or did you find him.
Girl the conductor gave you AIDS. Or was a faithful and loving wife.
The taxi driver was so fascinated by the conversation that drove into the pole. Or stuck in traffic, where you do not have time, received a reprimand from his superiors, had to change jobs, to go to another country, there to meet another woman break others family and quit his...
Every meeting has a tiny peephole into a world where you could live. And zealous officer Sasha, and provincial driver that at night the wife cheating, it's your own failed destiny. To me they are interesting.
Especially when I learned how easily erased from our lives and our destiny.
And they remain [bonkers] for the most part all my life lonely, unsociable, indifferent or insensitive to the fact that care about the human race, sure they are surrounded by some special, one of them belonging to the atmosphere.
Melancholy, depression, shyness, selfishness - that is a cruel punishment for the highest intellectual talents.
The main cause of melancholy and dissatisfaction with life the elect of nature is the law of dynamism and equilibrium, the Manager and the nervous system, a law that followed excessive waste or the development of strength is excessive the decline of the same power - law, due to which none of the pathetic mortals can't demonstrate a certain power without having to not to pay for it in another way, and very cruel.
Little did people beginning life, think to end it like Alexander the Great or Lord Byron, and yet a century, remain titular councillors?..
Who knows probably convinced whether it is or not?.. and how often do we take belief a delusion or mistake of reason!..
Here, people! they are as follows: know all the bad sides of the thing, help, advise, even approve of it, seeing the impossibility of other means, then wash my hands and turn away with indignation from him who had the courage to take on all the burden of responsibility. They all are, even the most kind, the most intelligent!..
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.
Some think me better than I actually... Some will say: he was a good fellow, the other - a bastard. Both will be false. Then is it worth the trouble to live? and all live - out of curiosity, expecting something new... Funny and annoying!
My love never brought happiness, because I did not sacrifice for those she loved: I was loved for myself, for my own pleasure: I was only satisfied a strange need of the heart, greedily absorbing their emotions, their joy and suffering and could never get enough.
