Look at the sunset
This is a true story that happened in Los Angeles, USA One day, the two old men left the tour group to watch the sunset on a cliff. The setting sun seems to sublime The orange glow burned the clouds in the west, like a profusion of sun rain, splashing down on the rocks and vegetation, beating with brilliant light.
The power of words
When I feel difficulties, when doubts about my own strength make me weep with pain, and when life demands swift and bold decisions, which I cannot make because of weakness of will, -- I recall an old story which I heard long ago in Baku of a man who had been exiled forty years before.
Romance without love
"Tamara? Ignatyevna, I think you like sweets, don't you? ..." "What else can I do, Timofey? Andreyevitch..." It was winter outside. I haven't seen such a cold winter for a long time. Or in October, it blew a strong wind, under the swirl of snow. The whole day and night, the snow did not stop, the wind did not quiet. It's no use trying to clear the snow from the trail now. It was very cold and hard to get to the road.
A happy woman
People say I am a happy man: I have a diploma, I work at a university, and I am married to a wonderful husband. My husband and I dream of a bright future. We want two boys and a girl. This eldest son has been a grade one, the youngest son is still in the nursery, the daughter - kindergarten.
Once upon a time there was a country in which everyone was a thief. Armed with master keys and blackout lanterns, they go out in the evening and burglarize neighbors' homes. When they returned home at dawn with their stolen goods, they always found that their own house had been stolen.
Master of art
????? Caio covered the paper with figures and charts, and the broken, two-inch blue pencil tip held in his hand like a magician's wand, opening the magic show. He is the U.S. consular agent here and is waiting for the U.S. side to send Corlario to replace the resigned consul Yatwu.
The last leaf
????? In a neighborhood west of Washington Square, the street is divided like mad into little alleys called alleys. These "alleys" form many strange angles and curves. A street itself sometimes crosses more than once. Once a painter saw something valuable in the street. It would be interesting if a merchant, going to collect money for paints, paper, and canvases, went round and round the street, and suddenly came across himself, empty-handed, without having received a dime.
Treat each day as the end of life
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like this: "If you live each day as if it were your last, you'll most certainly be able to control everything." Those words had a profound impact on me from the moment I read them: For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself, "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I should be doing today?" When the answer has been no for too many days in a row, I know it's time to make a change.
But romance is by no means the preserve of youth and love. When you were young, in the sunny streets like waterfalls, in the cutting breeze and tide of people, you loudly sing the song, why can't you sing today? In your first love, under the flowers, in the clear morning or hazy dusk, you once again gave your beloved the rose, why not let it again burst into a wisp of warmth?
Love the darkness of life
Life is a chaos between light and darkness: in life, nothing is fully realized, nothing is finished; The new sounds are always mixed with the old ones that have been heard before to form a chorus. All things flow, and all things are being transformed into one another, and the mixture is not harmonious and pure, and will even fall apart and vanish; There is absolutely nothing in the world that is always prosperous. To live means to be destroyed, and to be doomed if not to last a lifetime.