Even the most broad-minded of us can embrace only that part of truth into which our own snout has blundered.

Economic growth is not only unncessary, but ruinous.

Happiness doesn't depend on the actual number of blessings we manage to scratch from life, only our attitude towards them.

When I was young, the early death of my father cast a shadow over me - and I was afraid to die before all my literary plans came true. But between 30 and 40 years of age my attitude to death became quite calm and balanced. I feel it is a natural, but no means the final, milestone of one's existence.

Of course God is endlessly multi-dimensional so every religion that exists on earth represents some face, some side of God.

Blow the dust off the clock. Your watches are behind the times. Throw open the heavy curtains which are so dear to you - you do not even suspect that the day has already dawned outside.

I am of course confident that I will fulfill my tasks as a writer in all circumstances - from my grave even more successfully and more irrefutably than in my lifetime. No one can bar the road to truth, and to advance its cause I am prepared to accept even death. But may it be that repeated lessons will finally teach us not to stop the writer's pen during his lifetime? At no time has this ennobled our history.