2 Answers

  1. Asya Turgeneva showed me then what true female love is. In general, many of Turgenev's ladies became the reason for my excessive emotionality.

    Then there was Dostoevsky's Mr. Myshkin, whose story about the death penalty I still can't read without crying. His peremptory love for a human being struck me strongly at that time. Much stronger than the Bible or any other religious works.

    There was also, of course, Sartre, who also touched a lot of sore points.

    Perhaps Viktor Frankl, with his “Say Yes to Life”, became the most healing and kind philosopher to me and the whole world. Here he taught me to love not only humanity, but also any manifestation of this life. Well, even if you don't love him, then at least treat him with understanding. And constantly tirelessly interested in everything around. Constantly evolve and grow, grow, grow. Of course, first of all, as a person.

  2. I read Huxley's Brave New World. And the funny thing is, it's not even about dystopia or excessive consumption or anything else. I just saw myself in one of the characters – Bernard – and it was very unpleasant:

    “But there were some very unpleasant things about Bernard. This is bragging rights, for example. And it alternates with bouts of cowardly self-pity. And that depressing habit of braving yourself after a fight, of showing an extraordinary presence of mind in hindsight that was previously absent.”

    It became unpleasant. I thought about it.

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