GAGARINPOST

"I look up at the sky, wondering if I'll catch a glimpse of kindness there, but I don't. All I see are indifferent summer clouds drifting over the Pacific. And they have nothing to say to me. Clouds are always taciturn. I probably shouldn't be looking up at them. Wha tI should be looking at is inside of me. Like staring down into a deep well. Can I see kindness there? No, all I see is my own nature. My own individual, stubborn, uncooperative, often self-centered nature that still doubts itself - that, when troubles occur, tries to find something funny, or something nearly funny, about the situation. I've carried this character around like an old suitcase, down a long, dusty path. I'm not carrying it because I like it. The contents are too heavy, and it looks crummy, fraying in spots. I've carried it with me because there was nothing else I was supposed to carry. Still, I guess I have grown attached to it. As you might expect."

“Hai la metà di cento anni, bastardo che non sei altro. Ora va’ a farti la doccia e strofinati bene e poi mettiti il vestito da soldato. Oggi è un altro giorno.”

“Laws are like sausages, it is better not to see them being made.”

“Non c'è piú una sola scelta di vita apparentemente originale che si possa fare, oggi, senza finire imbottigliati nel traffico. Prendiamo le carriere artistiche, creative, intellettuali: un tempo erano vocazioni per spiriti eccentrici pronti a vivere ai margini della società, oggi esistono corsi di laurea che sfornano ogni anno migliaia di aspiranti, inevitabilmente condannati a non trovare occupazione. Milioni di individui speciali, uguali a tutti gli altri, senza piú un posto nel mondo.”