In seara asta am fost intr-un bar si m-am intalnit cu cineva care fumeaza pipa.Am vorbit despre filme . Mi-a spus despre filmul Zorba Grecul si ce credea acest personaj fabulosdespre pipat. Cand am ajuns acasa am cautat pe net citatul din cartea lui Kazantzakis. Cum nu am la indemana cartea in romana o sa il transcriu din engleza:
“I stretched out my arm; I, too, felt like having a smoke. I took my pipe. I looked at it with emotion. It was a big and precious one, “Made in England.” It was a present from my friend- the one who had greyish-green eyes and slender fingers. That was abroad, years ago. He had finished his studies and was leaving that evening for Greece. “Give up cigarettes,” he said. “You light one, you smoke half of it and throw the rest away. Your love only lasts a minute. It’s disgraceful. You’d better take up a pipe. It’s like a faithful spouse. When you go home, it’ll be there, quietly waiting for you. You’ll light it, you’ll watch the smoke rising in the air and you’ll think of me!”