Glory to the brave who dare to love, knowing that this will come to an end! Thank madmen who currently live as if they are immortal!
Beggars, unarmed people shed their kings to the throne because of love for one's neighbor. Because of love for the motherland soldiers trample underfoot death, and she ran without looking back. The wise men are raised to the sky and throw themselves into hell because of the love of truth! ..
I had the misfortune - is immortal. (Oleg Yankovsky, "Ordinary Miracle") ... In vain, the artist, you mnish that you are the creator of your creations!
Eternally they floated over the earth, the eye of the invisible.
No, it is not Phidias erected a glorious Olympic Zeus! 
Phidias whether it invented the forehead, the lion's mane,
Affectionate, regal gaze from the darkness of eyebrows thunder?
No, it is not the great Goethe's Faust created which,
In Germanic clothing, but in truth a deep, universal,
On his way resembles the eternal word for word.
Or Beethoven when he found a funeral march,
He took himself out of this series of heart rending chords,
Crying inconsolable soul of the deceased great thoughts,
Light violations hopeless abyss worlds in chaos?
No, these sounds are always crying in infinite space,
He is deaf to the ground, sobbing unearthly overheard.
Many in the space of invisible forms and inaudible sounds,
Many wonderful in it and is a combination of words and the world,
But it gives them only one who knows how to see and hear,
Who, having caught a line drawing, a consonance, just a word,
Whole him involves making our world astonished.