Vera Polozkova. Favorite quotes and poems.

Quotes from Vera Polozkova

I express gratitude to my heart for affection and love. But it hurts a lot later, when will it harden and give you a break?

You will find joy in the monastery under the castle, says your inner voice. But you cannot overcome yourself, being offended, irritated with your heart and essence - and falling in love again. – Vera Polozkova

If the tram runs over, it hurts. When a misfortune happens a second time, it’s a shame; the third attempt dulls the feelings. Then the feelings atrophy - the habit remains.

Lord, may our loved ones be worthy of us. Or mislead us so that our faith does not fade, saving us from disappointment, shame and apathy.

Please be present in my house, even via Skype. So that the apartment smells of a man's spirit.

Polozkova: Scold me and remind me that the relationship is torn to shreds. Tell me not to come close to you - then circumstances will leave me at home, I won’t be able to make the trip.

We spontaneously arrived in an ordinary courtyard, across which was hung a classic, Odessa, never-ending clothesline.

It is impossible to fall out of love - the next love replaces the previous one. Skeletal muscles become stronger, acquiring new rings of love. When cutting bone tissue along the rings, you can determine the number of formed drives.

Elementary apparatus. There is zero practical benefit, but the entertainment value is unique.

Read the continuation of beautiful quotes from Vera Polozkova on the pages:

Bad, evil deja vu: I lingered at the crossroads so much that I live on it.

Sometimes it stings in the throat from “I love you”,

You can barely hear what is being said - alone.

– Your name doesn’t appear anywhere. - I am a goddess? – You are a failure.

What should I tell you? Not a city, but an almshouse. Everyone carries himself around, cackling and grimacing. Argues every morning, drinks weekly, racks up debts for electricity, internet and communications. My tenderness for you lives separately from you, And I don’t think that I should introduce you.

He knew how to accept it all as it was: like this, different, sometimes tired, useless, sometimes ridiculous, awkward, stupid, unkind, trouble-free, not iron; If you laugh, he said, I celebrate, If you grieve, I condole.

Women's magazine with humor "Alive"

So close and understandable, at the same time sharp and reverent. Vera Polozkova, perhaps the most famous poet in Russia, has been writing since she was 5 years old and publishing since she was 15. Her poems are like confessions.

About Me

  • I want to be a little Brodsky - Not a single word is in vain.
  • I began to like being myself and only myself. I finally finished reading the instructions for myself.
  • I want not to save or put anything off, not to wait for better times, not to hope that it will become easier - to be able to live right now, everything given out in its entirety. I want more books and more children. I want to not be afraid of anything. And may all of mine be with me and nothing will separate us.
  • I prefer areas where there are no winners; where everyone is a champion in something.
  • I want to know every minute that you have enough strength for the entire huge important life that you have imagined for yourself.
  • A woman is warmth. A woman is close, beautiful, light, touching, deep, loving, flirtatious, pure, sublime, simple and eternal.
  • It is impossible to imagine that I would seriously fight for any man, even if I was mortally in love. It's humiliating.

About love

  • Freedom is when you don’t have to call back.
  • I always told him that you shouldn’t sleep with a person who can’t make you laugh.
  • Joy lies in every second boy, salvation lies only in you.
  • A universal female curse - for your loved one to call you immediately after a manicure in an expensive salon, and the phone is lying at the very bottom of the bag!
  • You need to love someone. Not to be loved, not to feel that someone needs you, but you yourself will definitely and preferably die. And every time there is a coffin. In the depths of your soul, you feel that you no longer love. I think love is always the same, just objects change. They need to be changed from time to time so as not to become boring.
  • And men are needed to nuzzle into the clavicular fossa - nothing else.
  • Make it so, Lord, that our loved ones are worthy of us. So that we, at least, never find out that this is not so.
  • By hating, you know what to expect in return - and you can only rely on yourself. In love, you give your sword into the hands of the first passerby: he can knight you, carefully touching your shoulders with this sword, he can return it to you with a bow, or he can drive it into your throat up to the hilt. And this is roulette.

About friendship

  • Be sure to make friends with those who are better than you. You will suffer, but you will grow.
  • Passion is a shaky bridge from friends to enemies.
  • Why do they only make greeting cards? Why don't they make offensive ones? I would buy a dozen with the words: “Thank you, my dears, for leaving me when you needed me so much.”
  • Theirs are calculated with lightning speed, the need for others disappears quite quickly.

About people and life

  • One must live without prompters, but with intermissions.
  • The truth reveals itself as a rupture, as a bleeding - and cannot be hidden, nor endured, nor appeased.
  • The most pity is the people who are obsessed with the relentless desire to teach everyone something. This is the most deplorable example of morally disabled people: as a rule, apart from broadcasting and putting on a condescending mentor face, they do not know how to do anything at all.
  • If you want to be happy, it’s time to become.
  • I would like to buy a universal decoder from some elderly engineer and gain the gift of always being understood correctly.
  • Don't invent any tragedies for yourself. Everything will work out somehow.
  • The ground has been cut out from under your feet - so learn to fly.
  • Living with a loved one and doing a job you love all your life are the two main anti-aging remedies. I know several women over 90 to whom the word “old woman” is inapplicable for these two reasons: they have loved all their lives, been loved, and have achieved success in their work.
  • Society cultivates various lush voids. All knowledgeable, deep people are very simple and clear; they know that there is only one power in the world and they are its instrument. Self-love is a very quick way to destroy both relationships and connections with a higher principle.

About creativity

  • Just remember that when this world ends, your funny name should also be in the credits.
  • Death is very disciplined: we owe all the best to its presence. It is she who triggers all the important mechanisms of search, aspiration, thirst for accomplishment, activity in general: what would we do if we lived forever? Mostly they slept.
  • When you experience a state of love, everything that is familiar to you suddenly acquires a cutting, grinding newness. It's simply easier to write from this state. Because before everything was lit by a 60-watt bulb, and now it’s 200-watt. And everything became bright and contrasting.
  • Children! Take care of your hard drives or what have you got instead: online archives? clouds? white-maned horses? Someday in old age you will suddenly dig up all the tender nonsense that you are now filming and wipe the salty tear from your hooked nose.

Thinking out loud

  • Peter is dad, and Moscow is mom. They are divorced. And you live, of course, with your mother, an imperious, loud, lean woman in her late 40s, a careerist and quite a bitch. And you come to your dad for a weekend once a year, and he feeds you crumpets and tea, stuns you with simple highway poetry like “The passage along the embankments of the Obvodny Canal under the American Bridges is closed,” and in general is some kind of cozy, humble guy, and when you meet you, you immediately feel ashamed that you visit him so rarely.
  • Women are absolutely honest with the surrounding reality only a few days a month - during PMS. This is, well, a clairvoyant state, close to extrasensory ecstasy. That is, in broad daylight, without any cheap spiritualism, without a single signal from Mars, suddenly and abruptly, like a blanket falling from a freshly erected monument, it becomes clear: you have been lied to. All this time. You are being used dirty and vilely. All. It is impossible to imagine anything more meaningless, stupid and mediocre than your life.
  • I don't know how to stop loving; I can only love someone else. All the unfulfilled, sunk, abandoned things are systematically accumulating not even in my heart, but somewhere in the bone tissues, forming a skeleton, making up something like annual rings. I can’t stay angry at any of them for long; Periodically, when I go into a store and touch a rag, I think: “It would be good for N,” although I haven’t seen N for three years. You experience great amazement every time you meet someone you once deeply loved and understand that if you struck a spark now, everything would start again, no matter what, no matter what scorched earth remains for the person. After a while, you realize that something that initially caught his attention in him has not gone away and will not go away. And it doesn’t depend on you at all.

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Vera Polozkova - quotes and sayings

ATTENTION TO APPLICANTS!!! Indeed, the beginning of this work is already on the site, BUT ONLY THE BEGINNING! _I PUBLISH FULL!!! Please pay attention to other readers!!!_A good essay-reflection from a growing up, not stupid person.

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The exhausting need to make excuses for anything disappears; you finally allow people to be whatever they want, even dissatisfied with you; even those who do not carry you organically. Let them; everyone has their own optics; in someone's microscope you are a worm, in someone's telescope you are God, in the sight of someone's rifle you are the main enemy - this means nothing except that some people like to look into microscopes, others - into telescopes, and some - in the sights; This has nothing to do with you... The joys of growing up are allowing yourself not to finish eating when you are already full; even tasty; even very expensive; even what they treat; freedom to get enough and put the plate away, and not be tormented that you will remember this day when there is nothing to eat; you won't remember. Another good thing is that you no longer need to have illusions about your own exclusivity or indispensability: if you stop writing something today forever, no one will grieve for a particularly long time; Every day there is a new, cheerful, verbose blogger in search of an appreciative audience; poets, writers, photographers, harmonica players and balalaika players. The squad will hardly notice the loss of a fighter. Now I don’t owe anyone but myself, and I ignore any reproaches about “somehow you’ve started to fade, mother” - I’m not at all, it’s just become more interesting for me to write letters and paper diaries; There you can use names and swear words, and not worry the next morning that the wrong person might read it. It’s no longer necessary for me to please everyone, I’m not looking for new acquaintances, it’s increasingly difficult for me to relearn, explain, integrate - introduce new characters into the plot; I already have such a huge series, I can barely keep up with the action. I think for a long time before dialing someone’s number and asking to see each other - only those who are very loved, extremely easy to communicate with, win, only those with whom pauses are not painful, who do not expect a circus and fireworks from me, do not ask unnecessary questions and know how to fly to beat back any of my caustic jokes. I’m learning to say “no” - I never knew how; I don’t want other people’s problems, other people’s outpourings, other people’s persistent, obliging admiration - I love you so much, I love you so much, let me get into your nostril, your ear, your mouth and I’ll walk with you everywhere and talk about it. There are more and more people around, but there are fewer and fewer of me. Whom I will remember later from this time, about ten people, system-forming ones. I am no longer interested in expanding extensively, I want to expand intensively, in depth. I want sustainability; I’m already constantly rocking the deck to call for more dancers and gypsies. Such things... You no longer need to be friends with the whole world, be liked by everyone, turn on the shirt-guy; It somehow hurts a lot of energy for very dubious purposes. You can afford the luxury of being silent in the company of barely familiar people all evening - before, you would have pranced, poured lakes from your sleeve, danced a gypsy girl around everyone, joked and burned with napalm, just to be the queen of the evening, recognized unanimously. Now it turns out that your close friends did not once love you for this; and some even went through quite a few difficult evenings, when you didn’t shut up for a minute, didn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise, and were on average two shades louder than everyone else present. God, what a relief! That's it, we have completed our career as a mass entertainer, now you can enjoy the shows put on by newcomers. Growing up. I don't want to grow up anymore. Wear strict clothes, speak intelligently, claim the true and immortal. You stop complaining and feeling deprived, because if something is difficult, go and get it. Go and call yourself. Go and achieve it yourself, instead of counting how much others have. I don’t want to play suicide, or catch up, or the sweetest of “no-one-loves-me” - so take a handful of ass and fall in love, and conquer, and have a heart-to-heart talk, and harness yourself to someone, so that later harnessed for you. So simple.

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