I'm not from you, Mom, I'm leaving, I'm leaving the mess.
Snow flakes fall softly and unhurriedly from the sky. White fluffs sweep before my eyes, remain on eyelashes and cool streams flow down the cheeks. And let your life seem unbearable to you, your hands fall down powerlessly. But you promised your mother that you will be strong.
Sometimes it is worth forgetting all the blatant ideas of our civilization and paying attention to what was known to the wildest savages - respect for the mother. Maternal love is a black hole. It absorbs even the most vile and vile things. Lies, betrayal, uneaten breakfast.
When there is no reason for resentment, anything can serve as an excuse. Even semolina porridge. And how else should you behave when you are already pounding your nasty lumps against your throat? Turn around and leave. And it does not matter that it's winter outside, dark and minus thirty. Resentment and anger warm better than sheepskin coats. Sometimes I want it so cold. To the heart - ice, soul - concrete, stone. To look - snow, frost. And sometimes almost it turns out. You already feel this cold in your soul, you wait for it, you are ready for it ... but for some reason your mother looks into your eyes and starts to smile.
Wars are cursed by mothers. Manka is cursed by children.
Attention! The most intimate, the masculine ...
... "There would be sex, like a cigarette shoot: girl, sorry, but you will not have sex? "Oh, no, I quit."
It would be so interesting for every woman to overhear men's conversations! After all, they talk about women and about marriage, about sports, about cars, about money, about work and about their dreams.
Why is the beautiful sex still does not understand that sex with a beloved woman is fundamentally different from having sex with an unloved?
Does anybody know why you need to urgently transfer the grandmother across the road, until someone else did it?
Can I change my wife with sausage?
How exactly can the fascists understand the personal problems?
Men always remain children. Impudent, puzatenkimi, balding, but very nice babes. True, the first forty years of their childhood are always the most difficult ...
This theater can rightly be called one of the most popular.
Witty performances collect complete rooms.
The actor's talent for artists is worthy of a storm of applause.
Interesting reasoning about the male and female logic.
Laugh from the heart and take note, dear ladies.
"The thing is that a woman wants to live her life, and a man wants to live his own life. And everyone tries to reduce the other from the right path. "
Can I teach a simple flower girl to speak English like a duchess?
The professor of phonetics promised his friend that he would do it and took the smudge in his London mansion.
If only he knew that he had to go through with her!
Moods, claims and reproaches are half the battle. Communication with her impudent dad scavenger of any will drive mad!
But the girl was not only nice and charming, but also a diligent student.
She sings very nice and dances well. I liked the beauty even of the professor's mother.
Can an aristocrat love a commoner? But he was already so used to it ...
And it is not easy for him to believe. A trustworthy girl can be deceived by anyone.
"Did you meet men who would be decent in dealing with women?"
Who called him a goat? Now, if a womanizer, and better - a reveler, a scoundrel or a mischievous.
He just loves women, that's why he runs after every skirt.
And silly like butterflies fly to his call. They themselves rush to his neck, forget about the suitors and husbands.
For the sake of a casual affair, I'm ready for anything. He is cynical, sarcastic and reckless. For him to get into a fight - a trifling matter.
The old girlfriend tired him of moralizing. She listened to them in the monastery. But they do not need it. He is already looking for his new victim. And the girl abandoned by him wept bitterly.
He is invited to a peasant wedding. Who will he take with him this time?
Can he deceive the bridegroom who believed him and seduce the young bride?
A faithful servant warned him that it was here that he had once killed the commander. But Don Juan himself the devil is not terrible.
He does not care about conscience and honor. Above all - his minute whims.
But he is sure that everyone else is just like him, only they are hiding it.
"We are all slaves, for that matter, slaves of passions, whims, pleasures.
Over time, warmth and kindness in us perish, to regret. "
Bazarov did not fit in the village life, or he planted the turmoil with his nihilism, that is, the negation of everything and a contemptuous attitude towards principles, or simply bored everyone. He believed in one physiology and matter, and she overcame him: first, earthly love, then typhus.
And in the meantime, the rest of the village paradise lives sweetly: ladies gather flowers, gentlemen conduct intelligent conversations, and enjoy everything with life. Kirsanov Sr. has long been happy in love, and it's time to get married. Younger, too, love smiled, he found his Katenka ...
Two pairs, two weddings - and why should they quarrel, fathers and children? Let them live happily, they live.
Only the one to whom everything is not cute, who has always opposed everyone, tragically finished his life ...
He was considered a "rebel demon".
Rudolf Nureyev, one of the best dancers of the twentieth century. He lived a short but stormy life.
An explosive temperament, a frenzied energy, a huge love for the ballet. And besides - unbending will and ability to overcome difficulties.
He was born in Ufa, in a poor Tatar family. All that he achieved in the art of ballet, made his work and talent.
How hard it was for him among the envious and malicious slanderers! Very young, he survived the betrayal of his colleagues.
Therefore, on tour of the Russian ballet in Paris, he decided to stay in France.
Then he did not even imagine that in a few years he would lead the ballet of the Paris National Opera.
Nureyev brilliantly danced all the best parts in the classical ballet repertoire. But he also loved modern dance.
He died young. Tragic was the fate of a remarkable artist.
The extraordinary life of someone called the "star of world ballet."
Fires of military roads. They can burn your soul to the ground.
There is a grief that can not be experienced.
The mother of adult twin children asks them to go to Lebanon, to her homeland and find a father and an older brother. They never saw their relatives.
Brother and sister fulfill the last will of the mother.
But they could not even imagine how many troubles had to be experienced by their mother.
She was a Muslim, she lived in a small village. The only one of all my relatives learned to read and write.
In the second third of the twentieth century in the Middle East raging war. She gave birth to the first son in prison, quite young. He was taken from her. All the searches for the child were in vain.
Horrors of war haunted her. After many years, she again went to jail. Loud sang in the cell to drown out the screams of those who were tortured by the villains. She was raped by a jailer who turned out to be her eldest son.
Is he the father of twins?
Passion in this performance reaches the level of the ancient Greek tragedy.
The dark past keeps terrible secrets. Do not try to look into hell.
What kind of wife to choose? Princess in a pink dress, which with a glamorous dog in the guests appeared? The nature of such a bride is unbearable, and she certainly does not know how to cook, but she will be demanding much from her husband!
No, it's much better to marry a simple girl, hard-working. With her, any work - in joy, and to work around the house together with her nice!
And the time will come - and the stork will have to catch up. Well, to catch up so to catch up, there's nothing to do. Go!
The Frenchman, a military pilot who participated in the battles of World War II, he was and remained primarily the son of his mother: no one's praise, no one's approval can be more important to him than her encouraging, inspirational words.
And even after, in peacetime, he will remain true to his filial love, living other people's lives in his novels, remembering the unforgettable Her - his mother.
They were closely connected by the bonds of mutual understanding, when he was still a child, and this connection can not be interrupted.
Guided by her decisions, driven by her willpower, he understood how much the value of motherly and filial love - he, who felt life so fine, passed the war and disaster, that he was born to become a writer.
Miro Gavran is a Croatian prose writer and playwright recognized in the world. His plays won the love of spectators from Paris to Washington, from Rotterdam to Buenos Aires. His books have been translated into many languages, and he himself became a laureate of many literary prizes.
What is it about plays that come from the pen of this remarkable writer, what makes people laugh heartily and wipe their tears?
Maybe the whole secret is that he writes about ordinary people. About those who sit next to us in the minibus in the morning, about those who ride next to the subway. About those who look flawless, but what happens behind closed doors in homes and souls?
But why wonder when you can just peek behind one such door? Moreover, the celebration was over just now, celebrating the anniversary of the wedding. The main thing is not to collide in the door with an unexpected guest! He was recently released and decided to visit his ex-wife ... However, she has a new husband, and in the apartment there is one for everyone ... how can one get on with it?
Yes, and can it live together two men, whose approach to women is so different? One believes that you just need to fight and win, because a man is always right! But if he does not defend his right - is he not henpecked? But is it really bad to be a "henpecked"?