but the browncoat felt he had spilt enough words into the variegated fireplaces at yasnaya polyana and bade cunt lev tolstoi excuse him but it was time for the browncoat to sing in spit bubbles elsewhere and the cunt was most serene and understanding for such was his noble way and he merely grew out his strong white beard as the browncoat weighed the book in his head using his skull and left yasnaya polyana with an elastic step and a ragged new oldnovel philosophy to chew on under the microscope lenses of the moscow streetlights .