"By the sixth day I was so pissed that the line dividing heart and reason had disappeared altogether, and they were both clamouring: 'Go to Petushki! Go to Petushki! That's where your happiness and salvation lie, go to Petushki!' Petushki is where the birds are never silent, day or night, where the jasmine never fails, winter or summer. Original sin - presuming there ever was one - doesn't burden anybody there. And even people who don't dry out for weeks on end have a clear, unfathomable look in their eyes in Petushki."

Moscow - Petushki, by Venedikt Yerofeyev