The gloom

The gloom We differ from similar sanctity not how the rough peasant from the refined artist, but as a corpse from the live person.

We already died, without having noticed that.

Secret of our life in internal sensitivity, instead of in hygiene rules.

There is something more fragile, than a body, than physical existence.

The gloom ruins us.

Here secret of the person.

If it lost light which conducted it to the best life, it falls in an abyss, is worse than an animal.

Only loving all the forces gives lives.

As lungs of the newborn and as easily brutal mother to deprive of the baby of air are weak! But as this crime before murder of soul which to make even easier is insignificant.

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