You spend your passión on a misprised mood. | |
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes misprising what they look on, and her wit values itself so highly that to her all matter else seems weak. | |
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, misprising what they look on, and her wit values itself so highly, that to her, all matter else seems weak. | |
You spend your passión on a misprised mood. | |
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes misprising what they look on, and her wit values itself so highly that to her all matter else seems weak. | |
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, misprising what they look on, and her wit values itself so highly, that to her, all matter else seems weak. | |