I would leave everything, to my friends, to people I do not know and will never know. I already gave away most of the things, and most of them are just some strange reminders of the past.
The books are different: I look to my library…
Somerst Moem's books is not just MSU-period when I first read him, he is one more door to the world.
Nabokov's «The defence» — is crystal game of the words' play.
Abraham Anatol — is another Wiener's «I am mathematician», suggested by physics professor Sokolov.
«Tears of owl soul» by Siluan Aphonskii is a strong reminder, a light-house for me, though I never yet finished this book.
There are also books, about which I know, I will never even finish them, like «Atlas shrugged» or «Black swam», though everyone talks about them. There are books, which I will always will be willing to reread, like Bunin's «Black allees» and «Anoton's apples».
The list is incomplete and I am waiting for the next book to be read or to be written.