Book: Woe from wit. Page 3
Like a true philosopher, I judge:
I only got as generals.
Who whatever you say:
Although animals, and still the kings.
My summer should not dare
To have its judgment.
Ah! Evil tongues are worse than pistol.
A smile and a few words,
And who in love all ready.
Forgot hair black
And in three days turned gray.
In the eyes of the dark and frozen soul;
Sin does not matter, the rumor is not good.
Minuy us more than all the sorrows
And lordly anger, and lordly love.
Don't remember anything, do not bother me.
Memories! Like a sharp knife one.
Chatsky: the Face and voice of a hero...
Sophia: Not my novel.
Of course, it is in this mind,
What is the genius for others, and for others the plague.
Poslete to the doctor should not be neglected.
Yes, even to embarrass anyone
The fast and curious look...
Ah! If someone loves someone,
Why would the mind seek and to drive that far?
He's smart not uttered Sroda, -
I don't care for that water.
