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Навечно лишён крыльев, проклят никогда не владеть речью и неспособен придумать своё. Зато может идеально подражать услышанному.
Дайте выкрикнуть слова, что давно лежат в копилке.
Отредактировано (2022-04-22 00:41:05)
Hatred comes before love, and gives the hater strange and delicious pleasures, but its works are short-lived; the head is cut from the body before the time of natural death, the lie is told to frustrate the other rogue’s plan before it comes to fruit. Sooner or later society tires of making a mosaic of these evil fragments; and even if the rule of hatred lasts some centuries it occupies no place in real time, it is a hiatus in reality, and not the vastest material thefts, not world wide raids on mines and granaries, can give it substance.
Но не правда ли, зло называется злом даже там, в добром будущем вашем?
Самолет не будет ждать,
Но не стоит обольщаться:
Даже если постараться,
На него не опоздать
We are occupied! - have you forgotten how put down we are?
Я б военный билет променял на билет довоенный,
Выпил времени б море и сушей вернулся назад,
Но как гомон вокзальный сливается с гулом вселенной,
Так и я прирастаю к войне у тебя на глазах...
"We may have been lying before, but we're totally telling the truth now!"
Если каждый возьмёт колосок, дети,
Снова будет поле из ржи.
А мы уже в пропасти, дети,
Мы уже не избежим…
A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue.
Но больше в городе не спал никто: все знали, что по улицам рыщет тысяча сыщиков и что в любую минуту они могут ни за что ни про что арестовать любого. К утру половина города заперлась у себя по домам, а вторая - бегала друг от друга по улицам.
Planet Earth is blue
and there's nothing I can do
You scum, you rat-sucking little worm-eaters! You heads-down little scurriers in the dark! What did you bring to my city? What were you thinking? Did you want the deep-downers here? Did you dare deplore what Hamcrusher said, all that bile and ancient lies? Or did you say, “Well, I don’t agree with him, of course, but he’s got a point”? Did you say, “Oh, he goes too far, but it’s about time somebody said it”? And now have you come here to wring your hands and say how dreadful, it was nothing to do with you? Who were the dwarfs in the mobs, then? Aren’t you community leaders? Were you leading them? And why are you here now, you ugly, sniveling grubbers? Is it possible, is it possible, that now, after that bastard’s bodyguards tried to kill my family, you’re here to complain? Have I broken some code, trodden on some ancient toe? To hell with it. To hell with you.
Burn the land, boil the sea - you can't take the sky from me
Встречено многое на пути,
От полного краха до полной победы -
Но того, что хотелось бы вновь обрести,
Нет даже в туманности Андромеды.
Мне приснилось: миром правит любовь,
Мне приснилось: миром правит мечта,
И над этим прекрасно горит звезда,
Я проснулся и понял - беда...
Любой умеющий читать между строк обречён иметь в доме ружьё
For the serious empire–builder there was no such thing as a final frontier. There was only another problem.
Oh how I wish to go down with the sun
Sleeping, weeping... with you...
I am not in the least degree interested in women as such. Only in persons.
Ночь устала показывать сны,
Кончен бал, и окно открыто.
Тает золото луны.
Эх, пока ночь - лети, Маргарита...
This is who we are, this is what we've got,
No it's not our paradise
She felt all the force of that comparison; but not as her sister had hoped, to urge her to exertion now; she felt it with all the pain of continual self-reproach, regretted most bitterly that she had never exerted herself before; but it brought only the torture of penitence, without the hope of amendment. Her mind was so much weakened that she still fancied present exertion impossible, and therefore it only dispirited her more.
Everywhere I look, I see something holy.
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