Character: Lina. Page 4

Now in my head only: "Love. She kills me, she kills me, she'll kill me. Well, let".

The past can pull him down, down, down; it wants you thought: at the rustle of the rubbing together of the branches and the whisper of the wind concluded a code; it wants you wanted to re-connect when it is destroyed. I do not believe. It's hopeless. The past - nothing like a heavy burden. Accumulate in you, it will pull down like a stone around his neck.

I'm pretty sure that if this room had more light, you would have escaped.
Why?
- You know, dear, that cockroaches scatter in bright light.

- What are you doing, Lina?
- Wait, wait, sign, address... writing a letter for handwriting analysis. I will send what I wrote and what I wrote man, I like Bobby to know does our handwriting.
- If compatible, you'll write together?

- How will "lost jeans" in Greek?
- Decent Greek girls do not lose their jeans!