". . . Odnazhdy zimnim moroznym utrom ya ponyal, chto nachnu tozhe s holoda, tolko parizhskogo: kogda upal pervyy kom zemli na kryshku groba Bunina na neozhidanno po-russki ledyanom noyabrskom kladbische. A potom nachnu otmatyvat vsyo k nachalu. «Zhizn' naoborot». Cherez starost, bolezn, mirovuyu slavu, emigratsiyu, potryaseniya, revolyutsiyu, tretyu lyubov, vtoruyu, pervuyu. I tak do istoka.
I kogda tolko chto poyavivshiysya na svet rebenok zakrichit, kniga i zakonchitsya.
I togda my nachnem vsyo snachala". (Dmitriy Vodennikov)
