Морфий. Михаил Булгаков. 1.0 Apk

It has long been noted by smart people that happiness - such as health, when it is available, you do not notice it. But when it will be years - as you remember about happiness, about how to remember!
As for me, I like it now turned out, was happy in 1917, in the winter. Unforgettable, blizzard, impetuous year!
Began blizzard caught me like a piece of torn newspaper, and moved with deaf site in the county town. Great thing, think of it, the county town? But if somebody like me sat in the snow in winter, in the strict and poor forests in summer and a half years, can separate a single day, if somebody broke the parcel on the newspaper from last week with a heart beating like a happy lover blue envelope, if somebody went to labor for eighteen miles in a sleigh pulled by jib, who, presumably, will understand me.

                                                                                                                                            Mikhail Bulgakov