𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝟿𝟸 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙵𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 - 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚜 - 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙽𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝟿𝟸 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙵𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 - 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚜 - 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙽𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.