Character: Camille

- It's vintage.

- How than? There is from there, and there is there.

- Here the people and God have forgotten.
- It never happened, with extended smile and sleepy eyes Camille did not take off studying look with Ruslan, with a slow manner of motion continued.
- After the flood, the people decided to build the legendary tower of Babylon, with the height up to heaven. Rather to 90 meters. But the construction of the tower was interrupted by God, because he didn't like it. And then he divided the people, created a language for each of them, which they no longer understand each other. And then people built the Burj Khalifa with a height of 800 metres. This is God like. That's our Lord most merciful.

When the four of us, we are well. And when did we last here, somewhere, together? Well? Man, yeah this life is! It's not life is it we're doing this!

- Please tell me, Ivan Andreevich, but which of the listed animals for science is the greatest value?
- Of course, all they represent. And desman, and chenopodii, and my favorite mouse-bees.

Well as you can? I already at such age when they have the right not to do something, just because everyone does it.

- Slava, well, she's a young girl, she wants to have fun... Well, remember yourself at her age. - So I remembered, and was horrified...

- First kiss, long, minutes twenty. Because you need, well, somehow, to gain a foothold on the beachhead, well, to fix that you already can...
- Sorry, language?
- In the tenth grade with the language? Crazy? This debauchery.
What are you some lips for twenty minutes doing?

- I'm tired, you know? - Camille squeezed in the hand losing the pawn.
I'm tired of looking at people and see a pattern of any vulgarity entrenched in their cage. I'm tired of looking like every
the human truth that emerges from selfishness, and any of their actions be it good or bad is buried in the depths of selfishness. I'm tired to see how matter acquires a value that becomes a goal. I'm tired of false ideals those Gods who lose the halo, as soon as appears a person's ego. I'm tired of war without truce line. Battle, the sides of which face on his chest, a dubious two-faced emotion of nature's creation in fear of losing profit in case of defeat. This war they baptized whisper of the heart and the cry of reason. I'm tired every night to close my eyes hoping to never open them to curse the God in whom they believe only for curses!

- Young man, don't you think brandy cheerless. You could us something to drink paradeta.
And Pobediteley.
- With a hint that this OPA-OPA-OPA-OPA.

If life was the same as in the textbook - at the end all the answers, you open and read.

Each had his first bra.

- That's who would have such beauty to describe it?
- I think only Pushkin!
- Oh, fucking well imagine Mandola sliding.
Mondola!

I am ashamed to be unhappy. We have to give happiness a chance, then it might happen.